Sweet Revenge
by saiken2009
Summary: An old enemy wants to exact his revenge on the Monkees. Will he succeed? Or will the Monkees once again foil him?
1. Broke and Hungry

Author's Note: Way too tired to be doing homework right now which is what I should be doing….I tried, but I may as well be reading my chemistry book in Greek, but since I can't sleep cause I'm at work, I'm gonna just start letting my fingers do their magic on my keyboard…..

K. Short chapter. Sorry. But I finally got a Davy POV! Lol Also, I don't own the monkees, any music, yadda yadda, blahdy blah…..I've decided for all original characters I'm just going to pick from names from some of my other fave stuff cause I'm so bad at coming up with names. If/when I have kids, my significant other (whoever that may be) will probably pick out names for them lol!

Title: Sweet Revenge

Chapter 1: Broke and Hungry

Micky lay on the beach, his energy spent. He'd just soak up the sun now. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the waves crashing on the shore. He loved that sound. It was as if he didn't have a care in the world when he listened to the waves. He didn't have to worry about empty cabinets and empty iceboxes. He didn't have to worry about paying rent. He didn't have to worry about anything.

"Micky!" came a voice snapping him from his reverie. "Don't tell me you're tired already!" He smiled and opened his eyes to see one of his best friends sitting down next to him.

"Kinda," Micky answered truthfully.

"You are the last one to ever get tired," Peter said. "Come on, Micky, get up!" Peter started bouncing a beach ball off his stomach.

"Peter, if you bounce that off me one more time, it'll be your lunch," Micky warned. But Peter just laughed. They'd spent the last hour throwing, kicking, and bouncing the ball around on the beach. It had started off as a lame form of volleyball but because they were forced to use a beach ball, it quickly turned into mindless mayhem.

"Does that mean I win?" Peter laughed bouncing the ball one more time. Micky smiled inwardly. He quickly grabbed the ball from Peter as it him in the stomach again causing Peter to jump up and scurry away. Micky leapt up and chased him, throwing the ball at the back of Peter's head. When it bounced off Peter's head, Peter whirled around and clutched his chest, and gasped for air before falling backward.

"Oh, Micky!" he exclaimed in mock agony. "You got me! I'm done for!" Micky laughed and grabbed the ball before sitting down next to his friend.

"Funny, Pete, but I really am tired," Micky said.

"Really?" Peter asked sitting up, abandoning his mock death. "Are you feeling ok?"

"Yeah, why?" Micky asked.

"Cause you normally have way more energy than me," Peter said reaching out to feel Micky's forehead. Micky pushed his friends hand away.

"Don't do that," Micky said with a laugh. "I don't have a fever. I'm fine. Just tired today, I guess."

"If you're sure," Peter said warily.

"Come on, Pete," Micky said with a smile and standing up. "Let's get back to the pad. See if Mike and Davy are back yet." Together they walked back to the pad in silence. Mike and Davy had gone out to interview for a job at a grocery store that they desperately needed. Micky and Peter hadn't gotten past the application process for some reason. Normally they didn't like taking regular jobs because it hindered their ability to play their music, but they really didn't have much of a choice. They were two months behind on the rent and were running out of ways to dodge Mr. Babbit. Mike had pulled moldy bread out of the cupboard that morning for breakfast before throwing it away in disgust. Which meant they had skipped breakfast that morning. Which might have been why Micky was so tired.

When they reached the pad, Micky threw the beach ball over into the corner and sank into a chair. Mike and Davy hadn't returned yet. Peter walked over to the icebox and opened it, even though he knew there was nothing in it. He stared blankly at it.

"What are you looking for?" Micky asked.

"I don't know," Peter said. "I was kinda hoping that somehow there would be food in here. I'm starving."

"You and me both," Micky said. He felt a slight pain in his stomach even as he said it. Peter closed the door to the icebox and decided to sit down at his keyboard. Micky smiled and leaned his head back against the chair with his eyes closed as Peter picked out a few notes to a song he was working on.

"What do you think, Micky?" Peter asked.

"Sounds good, Peter," Micky answered lazily. He expected Peter to keep playing, but instead he was met with a few moments of silence.

"Are you sure you're feeling ok?" Peter finally asked.

"Just hungry, Pete," Micky answered.

"You don't look so good," Peter answered. His voice was closer now and Micky opened his eyes to see his friend standing in front of him with a very worried expression. Before he could answer, the door burst open and Mike and Davy rushed in buried under dozens of bags. Peter and Micky jumped up to help them, but Micky found himself overwhelmed by a sudden wave of dizziness and was forced to sit back down. Unfortunately for Micky, Mike saw him fall back into the chair holding his head.

"You ok, Mick?" he asked dropping the bags on their kitchen table.

"Will everyone stop asking me that?" Micky said irritably.

"Mike's right," Davy said after dropping his own bags. "You look green."

"I'm fine," Micky answered. "I just got up too fast."

"Yeah, you, they hyper active man-child who never stops moving," Mike said sarcastically. "I'll believe that. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. What's with all the bags?" Micky said trying to divert attention from him.

"We got the job," Davy answered excitedly. "We kind of let it slip that our cupboards were bare so he let us take home some of the stuff they were going to throw away because the boxes were damaged or whatever."

"That was nice of him," Peter said. "I'm starving! Let's eat!" Peter started digging through the bags like a kid in a candy store.

"I think we should give Micky some of that soup," Mike said, still staring warily at him. "I think there's a chicken noodle. Can was dented too bad to sell."

"I'm fine," Micky said irritably again. He hated being fussed over. "For the last time."

"Ok, I'll stop asking how you feel if you agree to one thing," Mike said.

"What?" Micky answered.

"Let me take your temperature," Mike said crossing his arms. "You're sweating and it's not even 80 degrees outside."

"Ok, so I'm a little hot," Micky said. "I'm not a baby."

"No, but I think you're sick," Mike answered. "I heard there's a nasty bug going around."

"Ok, maybe a little," Micky agreed relenting a little. Suddenly his stomach lurched and he felt like he was going to throw up. "Or not," he said as he got up and ran to the bathroom. When he came back out several minutes later, his friends all had worried looks on their faces. Mike all but pushed him onto their couch; Davy handed him a glass of orange juice and Peter a bowl of soup. Mike draped a blanket over him.

"Case settled," he said. "Eat the soup, drink the juice, and rest."

"But I have a date with Lucy tonight!" Micky complained.

"With no money?" Davy asked.

"Well, I was thinking a romantic stroll through the park," Micky shrugged. "Or the beach."

"Romantic until you throw up all over her," Peter said.

"I'm not gonna do that!"

"You're right, Mick," Mike said. "Cause you're not going. Peter, can you call Lucy and tell her Micky's sick? She'll understand."

"But-!" Micky said, once again trying to argue.

"No, Micky!"

"Alright," Micky said giving up. "You win." Mike placed the back of his hand against Micky's forehead.

"You're burning up," Mike said.

"Just a little bug," Micky said. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Eat your soup," Peter said. "Then off to bed."

"Yes, mother," Micky said rolling his eyes. He caught Davy trying to hide a snicker.

"Now, don't be snarky," Mike said. "We're just trying to help." Without further argument, Micky ate the soup, grateful for any food, and drank his orange juice. Then he went upstairs, very carefully as he was still dizzy, and fell asleep for hours.

* * *

Davy stood behind the cash register waiting for a customer. He'd started his first shift that night, but his thoughts kept drifting back home. He was worried about Micky. He'd never really seen any of his friends get sick before. Not like that. They'd been sea sick before, but that was different. Micky was always so bouncy and loud. It was strange with the house as quiet as it had been before Davy had left. Mike and Peter had assured Davy that they would check on Micky throughout the evening. But Davy was still worried. But they had to figure out a way to pay rent or they'd be out on the street in the cold, which certainly wouldn't do Micky any good.

So here he was, chatting with the cashier lazily and waiting for a customer. The owner had decided to put Davy on bagger duty and Mike would come in the morning and be a stocker. Davy found it incredibly boring. But he had to do it. At least the cashier was relatively entertaining. He told stories about his family and growing up. It helped pass the time. Before he knew it, his shift was almost over. He had a little under an hour left before he'd be able to go home and go to sleep. It was nearing midnight which was when the store closed. After that, they'd have to do some menial clean-up, and then they could leave. The cashier had let Davy in on a secret, though. If you cleaned as you went, there'd be nothing to clean at the end of the night and you could leave right when the stores closed. It didn't seem like much of a secret to Davy, however. It seemed more like common sense, but looking around Davy noticed other people weren't following that edict. The night stockers had left pieces of cardboard everywhere they went. The other cashier, who had closed down her register a few minutes earlier, was busy cleaning a mess that a toddler had made 2 hours earlier. Davy shook his head in befuddlement. He hadn't noticed a man walking up to him.

"Hey, Davy," he said. Davy looked up in shock. Micky was standing in front of him.

"Micky?" Davy asked. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at home!"

"I got tired of being cooped up," Micky answered. Davy thought his voice sounded a bit rough, but chalked it up to the cold. "And I feel much better anyway."

"Already?" Davy asked.

"Yeah," he answered with a shrug. "I told you it wasn't that bad of a cold. Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Ok, but now's not a good time," Davy said noticing his new boss glaring at him from his office. "Can we talk about it back at the pad?"

"No," Micky said rather quickly. Davy gave him a confused look. "I mean, it's about the others. Mike and Peter. I wanted to talk in private."

"Well, I'm working right now, but we can talk after work," Davy said. Something seemed off. Why would Micky want to talk about Mike and Peter in private?

"Sure, sure," Micky said. "There's a diner up the street. I'll meet you there in an hour?"

"Yeah, no problem, Micky," Davy said. "What about Lucy?"

"I already talked to her," Micky answered. "We rescheduled for tomorrow."

"Oh. Ok." Davy was very confused. Micky seemed very off, and Davy was worried about what he could possibly want to talk to him about. Had Mike and Peter done something? Surely Davy would have noticed some tension between them. Davy quickly rushed out the door when it was time for the store to close. He wanted to get over to the diner as quickly as he could to meet with Micky. Once he was inside the diner, he spotted Micky quickly. He was sitting in a corner booth eating a cheeseburger.

"How did you get the money for that?" Davy asked sitting down.

"Peter loaned it to me," he said waving off the question. Davy narrowed his eyes, now even more confused.

"Where did Peter get the money?" he asked. Something seemed fishy.

"He went down to the bus stop and played his banjo for a few people," Micky said.

"Oh," Davy said. They had done that in the past for some quick cash, but they hadn't done it for a while. Davy shrugged his shoulders. He guessed it made sense. They were strapped for money, even with Davy and Mike getting those jobs. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Want something, Davy?" Micky asked. "Soda? Fries?"

"I'm good," Davy answered. "We need to be saving our money. And I ate during my lunch break."

"Suit yourself," Micky answered.

"Micky, I'm really tired and I want to go home and go to sleep. What did you want to talk about?"

"Well," Micky said after a heavy sigh. "Have you noticed anything off about Peter and Mike?"

"No, but I'm noticing something off with you," Davy answered.

"Sorry, I'm just worried."

"About what?"

"Them. They seem distant. You haven't noticed?"

"Not really."

"I overheard Mike on the phone the other day. He was talking about going home. For good."

"Why would he do that?"

"I don't know. That's what I was thinking. Then there's Peter."

"What's wrong with Peter?"

"Well, I watched him play for a group of kids last week. They all told him he was really good. One girl said something about how she'd seen us performing at that country club a few years ago and said he sounded better alone. Peter seemed to like that."

"What are you getting at, Micky?" Davy was really getting worried now. He hadn't seen any of this from his friends. Not even a hint. Micky sighed and pushed his now empty plate away from him and leaned on the table closer to Davy.

"I'm not sure, Davy, but I think they're thinking of leaving. Quitting. Leaving us high and dry."

"They wouldn't do that."

"I didn't think so either, but...it's all these little things I'm noticing. I don't know; maybe I'm going crazy."

"Maybe your fever is making you think too negatively."

"Maybe…" Micky seemed lost in thought.

"Let's just go home, Micky."

"Alright," Micky said. He pulled out a wallet and put a few bills down on the table before getting up and walking to the door. Davy followed him outside. "Hey, I sorta snuck out so Mike and Peter don't know I left. Don't mention it to them, ok?"

"Ok," Davy answered.

"And let's not talk about this again," Micky said with a forced laugh. "Maybe I am going crazy…Anyway, I'll meet you back at the pad." Before Davy could say anything, Micky took off down the street towards the pad. Davy shook his head and kicked a few rocks in the road as he walked back to the red Pontiac GTO they all shared. He wondered why Micky wouldn't want a ride, but figured that Micky would enjoy the outdoors more since he'd been cooped up in the house all day. It's probably what Davy would have wanted. He loved being outside.

He also thought about what Micky had said. Were Mike and Peter really thinking about leaving them? Did Peter really think that the others were holding him back? Davy knew he'd told Micky he wouldn't say anything to the others, but he desperately wanted to ask Mike and Peter. He figured he'd watch them over the next few days to see if he picked up on anything that Micky had seemed to pick up on. But something in the back of his mind was bugging him. Something kept telling him that something was very, very wrong. He just didn't know what.


	2. Falling Hard

Author's Note: Sorry for the gap in posting. I kinda got behind on homework because of some crazy near –death insanity. But I'm ok now, just a little jittery and jumpy, lol. Also, if you've never danced barefoot under the stars with someone you love, you haven't lived. Granted I did this with my ex-fiance, but I still would do it again. If I ever fall in love again.

Chapter 2: Falling Hard

The next morning was fairly uneventful for all of them. They finally had some food in the house, so breakfast was a feast of sorts. Peter had made toast, which was all any of the other Monkees would let him make after making cream of root beer soup once, Mike had made pancakes, and Davy had made eggs. Micky had come down the stairs feeling so much better, that he had slid down the railing like a slide. Peter laughed as Micky even did a little spin when he landed.

"I see you're feeling better," Mike said.

"Yep!" Micky said grabbing toast off the communal plate before Peter had even set it on the table. "Which is great, cause I'm starving and want real food!"

"Soup is real food," Peter argued.

"Yeah, but this is much better," Micky smiled.

"So can we get some practice in today then?" Mike asked. "We have that audition next week and I want to be perfect for it. There's a lot riding on it."

"A lot riding on it?" Davy echoed looking confused.

"Yeah," Mike answered. "The gig will pay us enough to pay our rent for at least two months. Plus food like this every morning."

"As opposed to moldy bread," Davy muttered.

"Exactly," Mike answered. "So how's about a quick practice after breakfast, then I have to get to work for my first shift, then we can practice more when I get home."

"That's a lot of practice," Davy said.

"We need it," Mike said now looking concerned at Davy.

"I think we sound good," Davy muttered before shoving a forkful of eggs in his mouth.

"Well, unfortunately 'good' isn't good enough for this audition."

"Yeah, Davy," Peter agreed. "Way I heard it is there's close to a hundred bands from all over southern California auditioning for it. We have to make sure we hit every note just right."

"Who says we aren't?" Davy argued.

"What's with you, Davy?" Mike asked.

"Nothing," Davy said. "I just wanted to hang on the beach today."

"The beach will always be there, Davy," Mike said. "We missed practice yesterday cause Micky was sick, so we need a little extra today." They finished the rest of their meal in silence. Micky hadn't interjected because he didn't want to get in between his friends, so he sat quietly shoveling food in his mouth. Once they finished, they did a quick practice of "Listen to the Band" and Mike rushed off to work.

"Well, if you want you can go to the beach now, Davy," Peter said. "I'm gonna head over to the bus station, I think. I was kinda thinking of getting a new book and need a little extra cash for it."

"Sure," Davy said. Micky thought something was going on with his friend, but he wasn't sure. Peter grabbed his banjo and headed out the front door while Davy headed out the back. Micky had the pad all to himself. He kinda liked that. It wasn't very often that he had the pad to himself for a few hours, and he was gonna take full advantage of the peace and quiet.

* * *

Over the next several days things stayed pretty much the same, but Davy seemed to snap out of whatever funk he was in and fully threw himself into their practice sessions. As it was now, Micky was getting ready for another date with Lucy, Davy was at work, Peter was playing at the bus stop again and Mike was reading the paper. Micky tried taming his hair one more time in the mirror in the living room, but gave up. Mike had loaned him a bit of money that he'd gotten playing at the bus stop with Peter the other day so he could actually treat Lucy to some food.

"How do I look?" Micky asked striding over to the table where Mike's face was buried behind the newspaper.

"Fine," Mike said without even looking at him.

"Good, I wasn't sure the clown outfit would work," Micky said trying to hide his laugh. Mike dropped the newspaper and looked at Micky.

"What?!" he asked.

"You didn't even look!" Micky laughed.

"Ok, now that I'm looking, you look fine." He said trying to hide a smirk.

"Thank you," Micky said with an over exaggerated bow which rendered Mike unable to hid the smile any further.

"Have fun, shotgun," Mike said with a chuckle.

"Hey, thanks again for the money," Micky said.

"Don't mention it," Mike answered waving him off. "Just pay me back when you have some extra money."

"Sure thing." Micky said as he walked out the door. He was supposed to be meeting Lucy at the restaurant they had chosen. Nothing too expensive as they didn't have a lot of money, but still nice. He arrived at the restaurant and found Lucy already sitting in a booth. He was struck again by how beautiful she was just as he was when he'd first seen her a month ago. She had short blond hair with a few strands that would hang in front of her face. She had beautiful brown eyes and wore a white sleeveless shirt with tight blue jeans. Micky smiled and walked over to where she sat. She smiled up at him as he sat down across from her.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," he responded. "I hope you weren't waiting long."

"No, I got here a minute ago. I ordered you a soda. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, thanks," Micky smiled. They sat for a while talking about menial things while perusing the menu. Once the waiter came and took their order, Lucy leaned in a little.

"So how are you getting along with your friends?" she asked. For a split second he thought this was a rather odd question to ask, but since she hadn't really met any of them yet, it stood to reason that she wouldn't know how close they were.

"We're fine," he said. "We're like brothers really. We never really have any problems."

"That's good," she said. "It's not very often that four men can live together so harmoniously. Most of the time it implodes."

"I really don't see that happening with us."

"Have you guys ever fought about anything before?"

"Once. We all fell for the same girl. But we got over it even before the end of the day."

"Really? Must have been some girl."

"She was. She was tall, beautiful, blonde…" Micky trailed off realizing it probably wasn't a good idea to talk about this with his current girlfriend. "Not as beautiful as you, though," he quickly covered.

"Thanks," she said with a laugh. "What did you guys do?"

"Well, we acted like children and split the house into four equal parts. Not sure how equal it was though. I got the empty icebox, Peter got the TV, Mike got the bathroom and Davy got the front door."

"Wow."

"Yeah, but we snapped out of it. Realized we were being childish and reconciled."

"Did any of you end up going out with her?"

"Peter almost did, but she found someone better before they even had a chance to go out on a date."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she showed up when they were supposed to start their date and said she'd found someone else."

"What? That's terrible! Who does that?"

"I know. Now that I look back she was really, really ditzy." They laughed a little more and talked until their server brought them their food. Micky really liked this girl. She was sweet, funny and smart. They talked a little about his music and her blossoming career in the business world. They sat for hours and just talked. The waiter was beginning to get annoyed with them, and Micky realized the place was 5 minutes away from closing.

"Hey, sorry," he said as he pulled the money Mike had given him out of his back pocket and gave it to the waiter with an apologetic smile. The waiter forced a smile back and walked away.

"Well, someone is in a foul mood," Lucy said with a laugh.

"Yeah, he's been like that all night, hasn't he," Micky laughed.

"What now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm having a good time. I don't really want this night to end yet." Micky felt himself blush a little as she took his hand in hers from across the table.

"I know how you feel, but it is getting late. I have a really important audition tomorrow and I need to get some sleep for it."

"Sleep is over-rated." She leaned across the table and kissed him. Micky was very tempted to succumb and stay out with her all night, but he knew Mike would be more than a little angry if Micky showed up to the auditions tired and groggy.

"I can't," he said regretfully. "Mike will kill me if I wreck this audition."

"Is it that important?"

"Yeah. It'll give us a lot of money that we really need."

"Maybe just a little longer?" She smiled at him and he melted a little.

"What exactly are we going to do this late? It's almost midnight."

"We could walk on the beach. Or through the park. Or just dance under the stars."

"Dance under the stars?"

"Yeah. Have you never done that?"

"I guess I haven't."

"Come on, then!" She grabbed his wrist and dragged him from the restaurant. He followed her over to a nearby park where she laughed as she took off her shoes.

"Why are you taking your shoes off?"

"To feel the grass, of course."

"It's freezing!"

"So!?"

"How do we dance with no music?"

"You hear the music in your head. And just-" she held her arms open and began twirling around. Micky laughed. He really, really liked this girl. She was perfect. He took his shoes off and walked over to dance with her on the grass. It really was fun. They didn't have to hear any music. They just had to move their feet. And after a few minutes, Micky forgot how cold it was and just felt the grass and the ground beneath his feet. He even walked over and took her hands in his and they did a slow dance together. But she went and twirled away from him after a few minutes. After a while, he felt tired again and sat down on the grass to watch her. She noticed this and sat next to him.

"That was fun," he said.

"I know. I like to do that whenever I can." She smiled and Micky lay down on the grass and stared up at the stars. She curled up next to him and he suddenly felt warm again. Micky nearly fell asleep right there in the grass when a loud car honk jolted him upright. He looked at his watch.

"Lucy, I'm really sorry, but it's almost 2 am! I have to get home!"

"The night is still young!" She argued sitting up.

"I have to be up at 8 to practice one last time before we go to the audition. That's 6 hours from now. I need some sleep."

"You'll be fine." She smiled. Micky tried to push himself up, but Lucy wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into another kiss. He groaned a little as he felt himself give in a little more and wrapped his arms around her too. Why did he find her so intoxicating? Another car horn jolted him back to reality again. He pushed her away and looked apologetically into her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "What about tomorrow night? I can stay out with you all night. I promise, but for now I have to go." She looked disappointed and he felt terrible.

"I'm going out of town tomorrow," she said. "I thought I told you. It's a 2 day trip with my work. Some sort of conference. I won't see you for 3 days." Micky sighed.

"No, you didn't tell me that."

"Just a little longer. Please?" He looked into her eyes. It was very, very hard for him to say 'no' to her. He sighed again and relented. What would another 15 minutes or so do?

"Ok, but only a little," he said. And they kissed yet again.

* * *

Mike woke up with a start. He blinked a few times trying to remember what it was that woke him. His alarm hadn't gone off yet. Then he realized he'd had a nightmare. He sighed and rolled his eyes. He frequently had dreams like that right before an audition. They'd get up on stage to perform and something would go wrong. Tonight's dream had them getting on stage to perform, and Mike had forgotten all the words to his song. Shaking the dream out of his head, he looked at the clock. It was only about half an hour before 8 anyway, so he figured there was no point in trying to go back to sleep. He carefully and quietly climbed out of bed and walked into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. He left the light off so as not to wake anyone else up.

He jumped slightly when the front door opened. He looked to see who had opened the door at this early hour and realized it was Micky. He was dressed in the same clothes he had been the night before when he'd left for his date and even in the dim light he looked haggard. Micky tried to shut the door quietly and creep up the stairs. Mike wasn't about to have any of it.

"Are you just getting home?" Mike asked suddenly making Micky jump about a foot in the air.

"Don't do that," Micky said clutching his chest.

"I wouldn't have to if you weren't sneaking around."

"I'm not sneaking around. You're the one holding a vigil in the kitchen!"

"Actually, I just woke up and went to get some water. You snuck in the front door right when I came out here. But you evaded my question. Are you just getting home?"

"Maybe," Micky said "Why do you care? Last I checked you weren't my father."

"I never said I was, but we have an audition in a few hours and you haven't slept at all. Have you?"

"No, but I'll be fine. I promise."

"I hope so," Mike answered. Without any further argument Micky climbed the rest of the way up the stairs to his room. Mike was really angry, but he gave Micky the benefit of the doubt. For now.

Half an hour later, Peter and Davy sauntered into the kitchen dressed and ready to go. Mike, also now fully dressed for the day, had a plate of food ready for them and was sitting at the table scanning the paper for more gigs. They thanked him and sat down to eat.

"Should we wake Micky?" Peter asked behind a mouthful of toast.

"If you want," Mike answered. "He only just got in from his date half an hour ago." Peter swallowed the toast and dropped his jaw in shock.

"You must be joking!" Davy exclaimed.

"Nope," Mike said folding up the paper. He hadn't seen anything in it today. "I want to start practicing when you guys are done eating though, so someone should get him."

"I'll do it," Peter said as he finished his last bite of eggs. He put his plate in the sink and ran up the stairs. A minute later he came downstairs with Micky groggily behind him.

"You missed breakfast," Mike said. He knew he was angry and probably shouldn't be as snippy as he was being, but Micky knew better than to blow an audition like this. And he didn't look like he'd be fine.

"I had some breakfast with Lucy," Micky answered.

"I take it you had fun last night," Davy asked.

"Yeah," Micky answered, now perking up a bit. "She's amazing! I think I'm in love."

"Love or not, we need to practice one more time," Mike said.

"Micky, are you going to be ok to perform?" Peter asked mirroring Mike's concern.

"Sure," Micky said. "You said it yourself, I'm full of energy. I'm like a machine!"

"Ok…but you look like someone pulled your plug a long time ago."

"Cut him some slack, guys," Davy defended. "It's not every day you fall in love!"

"It is for you, Davy," Mike said walking over to their makeshift stage and picking up his guitar. Peter chuckled but stopped when Davy shot him a dirty look. Peter stifled his laughter and joined Mike in the stage behind his bass guitar and keyboard. Micky and Davy joined them as well. Mike could tell Micky was trying to force himself to stay awake. Halfway through "Papa Gene's Blues", Micky fell off his stool.

"Micky!" Davy exclaimed.

"Are you ok?" Peter asked.

"Fine!" Micky said snapping back up trying to pretend that it wasn't his grogginess that had made him fall. Mike merely sighed. It looked like his nightmares were about to come true. Only it wouldn't be him that messed up their audition.


	3. Frayed

Author's Note: Short chapter. Sorry. But I felt that trying to force anything in it to make it longer would just be bad. Hope you like it.

Chapter 3: Frayed

Peter felt bad for Micky, but he was also a little angry and annoyed. They were supposed to go on stage in less than five minutes to audition for one of the highest paying most important gigs of their lives, and Micky was leaning against Davy half asleep. Micky had apologized on the way, but it mostly fell on deaf ears. Mike had tried the whole way over to pump energy into Micky. He'd slammed on the brakes a few times to try and scare him. He'd honked the horn next to Micky's ear, when Micky was crossing in front of it back at the pad, but all that did was make Micky more irritable. They'd tried giving Micky sugar and caffeine, but that didn't work either. Nothing was working. Micky was about a minute away from passing out.

Peter saw Mike's point that Micky had made a choice to stay out all night and that no one had made him do it. This was no one's fault but Mickys. But Peter also saw Davy's point that sometimes stuff happens when you're in love. To a degree. Peter wasn't sure Davy was the best person to be counseling on what love was and what it could do, but Micky was still one of his best friends. He was stuck between two conflicting emotions.

Now they were waiting backstage for their names to be called. They'd be allowed a 10 minute set and the night before they'd settled on a set list that relied heavily on Micky's vocals because he had a very unique voice and sound that a lot of people really enjoyed, but now they were trying to make last minute changes. Micky tried insisting that he could still sing and that he was fine, but Mike just shot him a look that could kill a thousand men. They'd planned on opening with 'Goin Down', but Peter knew there was no way Micky would be able to get through even the first verse.

"Micky, we're gonna have to go with another song," Mike said. "There's no way you are going to be able to sing that song. The tempo alone makes it hard to do when you're awake.

"I can sing it just fine," Micky argued.

"Really?" Mike said with anger dripping from his voice. "Go ahead and try. Right now."

"Ok, I will," Micky answered. He took a deep breath, stood straight and started. "Floatin' down the river with a saturated liver and I wish I could forgive her but I do believe she meant it when she told me to forget it and…" Micky was cut off by a rather large yawn. Not to mention his tempo had been way off. Peter's heart sank and Mike rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, exactly," Mike seethed. "Forget it. Ok, so we'll open with 'Papa Gene's Blues', then instead of 'Sometime in the Morning', we'll do 'Shades of Gray'."

"Sure," Peter said.

"We'll stick with Peter doing 'I Believe You' and 'Listen to the Band' as our close. Can you handle that, Micky?"

"Hmmm…What now?" Micky said as though he'd just woken up and missed half the conversation. Peter sighed and Mike looked like he was about to explode. Instead Mike closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Peter was grateful this seemed to calm him down slightly.

"Want me to take over on drums?" Davy asked.

"You're bound to be better than Micky right now," Mike said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Davy said narrowing his eyes a little.

"What?" Mike asked, confused as to why Davy had taken offence to the statement. Peter thought he understood why, but kept his mouth shut. Even though he knew Mike was right he knew Davy was reading too much into it. He chalked it up to everyone being so tense. Davy was good on the drums, but not nearly up to the standard they needed for this audition. However, he'd be better than Micky was right now. Before anyone could answer Mike, it was announced that the Monkees were needed on stage for their audition.

"Never mind," Davy muttered as he traded Micky's drumsticks with his tambourine. The four of them walked on stage and smiled. Micky tripped a little, but recovered and stood in the place Davy normally stood to play the tambourine. They started their song well, but halfway through Micky lost the rhythm. Peter groaned inwardly, but kept playing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mike glare a little at Micky.

Once they'd finished their entire set, Peter looked out at the various men and women judging the auditions. They didn't look nearly as pleased as they had when the quartet had first come out on stage. They'd blown the audition. There was no way they'd get the gig. He looked warily at Mike who seemed to have noticed this too. Mike did not look happy. As the four of them quietly walked off-stage, Peter expected Mike to say something, but instead he just shook his head. The woman backstage who had been directing all the bands where to wait for their turn smiled at them, thanked them for their performance, and told them the judges would be in contact with them soon.

Peter had never realized exactly how deafening silence could truly be. They walked to the car in silence; loaded their instruments in silence; they even drove home in silence. It was all too much for Peter. All four of them knew that they had performed like some wanna-be garage band. And Micky's drowsiness was all too obvious to everyone watching them. Peter hadn't performed all that well either, to be honest. He had been too worried about his friend. And angry. He'd missed a few notes here and there. Davy was barely able to keep the beat on the drums, and even Mike had messed up a few notes. All three of them seemed to mess up their vocals at least once. When one of them was off, they all were. This was the only drawback to having such strong emotional ties to one another. He hated to admit it, but they probably would have performed better had they all not been either angry or concerned about Micky.

* * *

Mike decided to wait until he got back to the pad to talk to Micky. He wasn't sure this was the best idea, however, as he felt his anger stew on the drive home. It seemed to grow bigger with each minute and he forced himself to breathe every once in a while. He'd seen the judge's faces. He knew that all four of them knew they had bombed. Halfway back to the pad, Mike glanced in the mirror and saw that Micky had fallen asleep on Davy's shoulder. Mike's anger multiplied at the sight. He knew he shouldn't be getting angrier at Micky. After all, his lack of sleep is what started all this; it only stood to reason he'd fall asleep at the first chance he'd get, despite the anger and tension in the air. But he couldn't help it. They really needed this money. Sure Davy and Mike had gotten jobs at the grocery store, but that wasn't paying them enough to cover everything.

Mike pulled the car in front of the house and watched as Davy tapped Micky on the shoulder to wake him up. Micky groaned a little, but woke up and retrieved his drums from the back seat before following the others into the house. He set the drums lazily in their alcove-turned-stage area next to Peter's keyboard and bass guitar before walking towards the stairs with a yawn.

"I'm going to bed," he said.

"Really?!" Mike burst unable to contain himself any longer. Peter had been standing right next to him and jumped nearly a foot in the air. Davy had walked into the kitchen and froze with his arm halfway to a glass in the cabinet. Micky turned to look at Mike slightly dumbfounded.

"What?" he asked.

"You're just gonna go upstairs and sleep?!" Mike all but yelled. "Like nothing's wrong. Like nothing happened. Not even an apology?"

"What do you want from me?" Micky argued. "I apologized on the way to the audition!"

"I want you to maybe take some responsibility for your actions!"

"I already apologized! There's not really much else I can do, is there?!"

"Explain to me why you felt it was more important for you to stay out all night than come home and sleep before such an important audition! That would be a start!"

"I tried to come home. I wanted to."

"What, did someone somehow keep you from coming home?"

"Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that Lucy and I were having a good time and didn't want to stop, ok? Forgive me for wanting to have a life! For wanting to spend time with the woman I love!"

"No one wants to stop you from spending time with her, Micky," Peter said calmly moving in between Mike and Micky as though acting as a referee. Davy leaned against the table with his arms crossed across his chest somewhat defiantly.

"Mike seems to," Micky spat back.

"I never said that!" Mike argued. "You have all the time in the world to spend with her. It's not like she's leaving!"

"Actually she is," Micky said. "She's going on a trip for a few days with her job."

"A few days?!" Mike sputtered. "Yeah, cause that's the end of the world. You'll never see her again! Then by all means, Micky, blow off your responsibility to us and cavort with her!"

"Mike, please just calm down," Peter said imploring him to calm down. But Mike couldn't help it. He'd never been this angry at any of them before. But none of them had ever really acted this carelessly. Davy had come close several times. He'd put his own life in danger because of a girl, which some would argue was worse than blowing an audition, but he hadn't been so angry because they'd always found a way to fix whatever problems they ran in to. This time, Micky had messed up beyond the point of any repair. And had knowingly endangered not just himself, but all four of their chances to get the money they needed to eat and pay the rent.

"No, Peter," Mike said forcing himself to lower his voice a little. He wasn't mad at Peter. Peter was just doing what Peter did by trying to create peace. "I'm sorry, but I can't calm down right now. Micky threw us all under the bus."

"I told you I wanted to come home," Micky argued.

"Then why didn't you?!" Mike yelled.

"Look, I'm not going to lie and say it wasn't my fault. We kinda just got carried away."

"Carried away?" Mike spat. "Well isn't that obvious!"

"Look, I'm sorry. Again. She kept saying 'just a little longer' and I found it very hard to pull away. One thing led to another and we ended up staying out all night."

"Really!? You found it that hard to say 'I have to go home. My friends are all counting on me.'?"

"I don't know what exactly came over me, ok? I feel bad, I really do, and I don't need you yelling at me!"

"Yeah!? Well feeling bad doesn't fix it!"

"Neither does being angry, Mike!" Davy interjected standing up straight now. Mike felt like he'd been slapped in the face. More because of the fact that Davy was right than anything else. He was suddenly at a loss for words.

"Davy's right," Peter said still unbelievably composed. He was the only calm one of the group right now. "None if this is going to solve anything. So why don't we _all_ just take a deep breath and calm down."

"Are you saying you're not mad, Davy?" Mike asked.

"I'm a little annoyed, sure, but I can't say I blame him," Davy answered. "I understand where he's coming from. I know what it's like to be in love with someone and not want to leave them." Mike couldn't help it; he harrumphed at Davy's words.

"Davy, I think you define 'love' a little too loosely," he scoffed.

"Don't attack Davy like that," Micky spat.

"Why, because he's on your side?!" Mike asked. "Just a few weeks ago you were joking that Davy 'fell in love' nearly every day!"

"No one said he was on my side!" Micky said. "He just said he's annoyed with me too! He just agrees with me that you're blowing this whole thing out of proportion!"

"News flash, Micky, that's taking your side!"

"So what if I am taking his side!" Davy said. "At least he tried! You didn't see him completely giving up! He tried!"

"Tried and failed," Mike said.

"Yeah, well, I didn't hear you playing all that perfectly either, Mike!"

"Maybe I would have if we had a drummer who could keep the beat!" Mike argued. He immediately regretted saying it. He knew that wasn't true. He knew he'd just been angry and that's what had made him mess up. But it was too late; he'd said it. He couldn't take it back now. Davy's jaw hardened a little and he moved to stand closer to Micky. It was as if battle lines had been drawn with that single statement made out of pure anger. And poor Peter was caught in the middle.

"That's just cruel, Mike," Micky said. "Davy did a good job and you know it."

"Not as good as you would have done if you'd been coherent!" Mike spat back.

"Maybe not, but that's not his fault; it was mine. Don't you dare take this out on him."

"Guys, please!" Peter tried again. "Before someone says something they're going to regret!" He sounded very desperate, but the other three simply ignored him.

"I'm not taking it out on him," Mike answered. "I'm taking it out on you. We needed that money Micky. The income that Davy and I are getting from the store isn't nearly enough to cover what we need. Without that money, we won't be able to afford food. We can barely afford rent. And there haven't been any new ads for auditions in the paper in a month. And you and Peter haven't found regular jobs yet either."

"Oh, so now you're mad at Peter?" Davy exclaimed.

"Of course not!" Mike yelled. "I know Micky and Peter have both been trying to find a job! I was simply stating a fact! Micky, you blew our one chance to have enough money to feed ourselves!"

"What else is new, Mike!?" Micky argued. "We never have enough money for food! This is the first time in a year that our cabinets have been full! Half the time we only eat because Millie brings us something or your aunt sends you a stipend from the ranch!"

"Yeah, well, I don't live on the ranch, Micky! I can't count on that money all the time! She only gives me what she has extra when she has it. I don't know when or if she'll be able to send us another check. Which means that once our cabinets are empty, I don't know when we'll have money for food."

"If it's so bad here, then why don't you go back to Texas!"

"That may not be such a bad idea, Micky," Mike sneered. Once again he immediately regretted what he said. Silence fell on the entire room. He looked from Micky who looked shocked, to Davy who looked angry, and finally to Peter who looked crushed. Mike felt terrible knowing he hadn't meant what he said. This was twice now he'd said something out of anger. And this time he not only hurt Davy and Micky, but he'd crushed Peter, who'd only been trying desperately to bring about peace among his friends. Mike knew he'd gone too far. He decided to leave before he said anything else. He stormed out of the pad through the back door to walk along the beach.


	4. Deceptions

Author's Note: If anyone can figure out where I got the characters from, kudos to you! I changed their names slightly because they obviously don't have anything to do with the Monkees. I just find it fun to insert characters from other stuff I like. :D kind of like a where's waldo in a way. Fun little game for me.

Chapter 4: Deceptions

Peter's heart sank lower than it had in a long time. He watched Mike storm out the back door and then looked over at his other friends. Davy and Micky just stood there for a few moments. Peter decided to run after Mike. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to say, but he knew he had to say something to help his friend. He knew in his heart that Mike hadn't meant what he said, but it didn't make him any less worried. None of his friends had ever fought like that and he was scared.

He thought he heard Davy call after him as he followed Mike out the back door, but ignored it. His biggest concern was making sure Mike was ok. He'd never seen Mike react like this before. He saw Mike take the stairs down to the beach two at a time, which was easy given his large stride. Peter followed him and caught up to Mike just as he reached the shoreline.

"Mike!" he called. Mike stopped momentarily to look back at him for a second before turning back to stare at the water.

"Peter, I'm so sorry," Mike said as Peter caught up and stood next to him. "I didn't mean that. I don't want to go back home."

"I know," Peter said.

"I just-" Mike started but trailed off.

"It's ok, Mike," Peter said putting a hand on his friend's shoulder to try and reassure him. "You don't have to explain. I know. I understand. There have been times where I've thought about going home, too."

"Really?"

"Sure. Things get hard for us sometimes. No one is going to deny that. And when that happens sometimes I think about how much easier it would be if I just went home. I'd have a warm bed to sleep on every night and my mom would make sure I had 3 square meals a day. And my mom makes some great food. I really miss her cooking. And everything else about home."

"So why are you still here?"

"Because I wouldn't be happy if I went home. Not truly. If I went home I'd be giving up on my music. No one cares if you can sing or play guitar back home. It's fun for the talent show, sure, but there's no one to really listen. Not like people out here do. And most importantly, I would be giving up half my family. I couldn't bear to lose you guys right now. You all mean more to me than anything else."

"I feel the same way. Only there aren't even any talent shows in New Gallifrey. The only person who listened to my music was Aunt Kate."

"I know you feel the same way, Mike. And so do Davy and Micky." There was silence between the two of them for a few minutes as they both just stared at the ocean. Peter took a deep breath before he spoke again. "Are you ok?" he asked.

"I think so," Mike answered. "At least now. I let my anger get the best of me. I didn't mean to hurt any of you. I'm really sorry."

"It's ok, Mike. I already told you. It happens. We all get angry from time to time."

"You forgive me?"

"Of course I do, Mike. Come on, why don't we go home. You can apologize to Micky and Davy."

"Sure." Mike smiled at Peter and the two walked back to the pad together. When they walked in, however, the living room was empty. Peter looked at the counter where Mike usually put the keys to the car and saw they weren't there.

"You think Davy left for work early?" Peter asked. Davy didn't have to go to work for an hour, but it was a reasonable assumption that Davy had left so he wouldn't have to take part in another argument, should another one arise.

"Probably," Mike agreed also noticing the missing keys. "Micky probably went to sleep."

"More than likely," Peter agreed. "I'll go check on him just to make sure." Peter made his way up the stairs trying to be as quiet as possible so that he didn't wake Micky. He carefully opened Micky's door and discovered that his friend was indeed passed out and snoring in his bed. Peter closed the door and walked quietly back downstairs.

"He up there?" Mike asked from the kitchen table where he was now sitting looking at a new newspaper.

"Yeah," Peter said. He took a deep breath and wasn't sure if he should proceed with the thought that had suddenly occurred to him. "You know, something's bugging me."

"What?" Mike asked folding up the paper and looking at him intently.

"Well, it's not really like Micky to do something like this, is it?"

"No, that's why I got so angry."

"And he said that Lucy kept saying 'just a little longer', right?"

"That's what he said."

"Well, it's just weird. I mean, why wouldn't she let him go home? It seems…" Peter couldn't bring himself to really say it. He always had a certain amount of trust in everyone, but at the same time, he couldn't escape the feeling in the pit of his stomach that something bad was going on.

"You think she purposefully kept him out all night?" Mike asked.

"That's kind of what it seems like."

"Why would she want to do that?"

"I have no idea."

"The only thing I can think of is she was trying to sabotage us, or at least him. But why?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong. It doesn't make sense."

"No, Peter, I think you're on to something. It actually does make a certain amount of sense to me. We just have to figure out why she would do that."

"How do we do that? Micky said she was out of town."

"Well, we could start by getting to know a little bit more about her. Do you remember where Micky said she worked?"

"Umm-" Peter said trying to wrack his brain to remember. "I think he said she was a manager at an upscale electronics store. I don't remember what it was."

"Vidic's?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, that was it!" Peter said snapping his fingers remembering.

"So we go to that store first and see what we can find out about her. But remember, we cannot let Micky find out that we're snooping around on his girlfriend."

"Right. I don't think we should tell Davy either."

"Agreed. This stays between us." Peter nodded agreeing with Mike wholeheartedly. Mike wrote a note for Micky and Davy, just in case he came back before them, saying they'd be back soon. Then the two of them made their way to the electronics store.

* * *

It took Mike and Peter at least 2 hours to get to the electronics shop by bus, and another half hour wandering around a little lost. Finally they found it. When they walked in, Mike was taken aback by the displays around him. All the latest technology lined the walls with brightly colored price stickers on them. Some of them cost more money than Mike had even imagined was possible for one person to have. Then again some of the stuff was fancier than Mike could have imagined, too.

"Can I help you?" said a man behind the counter. Mike pulled his eyes away from all the shiny objects around him to look at the man behind the counter. He looked like a middle aged man with white hair and a white beard. He wore a suit with a laboratory jacket and a red tie. He smiled at them, but somehow Mike didn't feel pleased by it. The man's smile seemed almost devious. It sent chills up Mike's spine.

"Uh, yes," Mike started. They'd come up a plan on the way for how to weasel information out of whoever was here, but he was temporarily thrown by the creepy smile. He cleared his throat a little before continuing. "Well maybe. See we are private investigators with the firm of Nishwash and Thorkelson. Perhaps you've heard of us?"

"No, can't say as I have," the man replied. He seemed to be buying the lie, so Mike delved in further.

"Ah, well, I'm Nishwash, and this is Thorkelson," Mike said introducing first himself and then Peter who went along with the plan and adopted an uncharacteristically stern face. "We are looking for some information you might have on an employee. Her name is Lucy Stills."

"I can't imagine why you would be looking for information on her," he responded. "Lucy is one of my best employees. I'm William Vidic. I own this store."

"Do you have very many employees, Mr. Vidic?" Peter asked sounding very stern.

"No, just a few."

"Well, then saying she is one of your best doesn't really describe her all that well, does it? I mean if you have two employees, than saying one is one of your best is like saying one apple is redder than another, don't you think?"

"Not really. I have had several employees over the years and she has always performed well past my expectations."

"What else can you tell us about her?" Mike asked.

"What do you want to know?"

"What her daily habits are?" Mike asked.

"What sort of company she keeps," Peter added.

"Is she a work-a-holic?" Mike continued.

"Does she party a lot?" Peter supplied.

"What sorts of men interest her?" Mike asked.

"Gentleman, gentleman, please!" Mr. Vidic said putting up both hands to stop them. "I'm not sure it would be ethical of me to answer any of that. Why do you want to know all this?"

"We told you, we are investigating her," Mike said leaning on the counter. "We were hired by a client who believes she is of a suspicious nature and wishes to find out what he can about her."

"Well, I'm afraid I can't be of service to you," Mr. Vidic said sternly. He was staring at them very intently. Mike had a bad feeling that they should probably leave before their deception was uncovered.

"Alright, then, Mr. Vidic," Mike said standing up straight now. "We shall be going then. Good day, sir." Mike pulled Peter by the back of the collar a little and they made their way to the front of the store. As they did so, a young blonde woman walked by them. They both smiled courteously at her, but the smiles quickly melted off their faces when they heard Mr. Vidic address her.

"Lucy!" he said. "You're early. You aren't supposed to be here for your shift for another half hour."

"What can I say," Lucy replied. "I got bored at home. Thought I'd come in and look over some paperwork before my shift started." Mike and Peter exchanged one quick panicked look with each other before dashing out of the store. If Mr. Vidic said anything about the "private investigators" their deception would definitely be uncovered. However what worried them the most is that Lucy was even there at all.

They ran down the street and rounded a corner before stopping. Mike peered around the corner to ensure that no one was following them and that they hadn't been seen. Then he leaned against the wall and realized that he was breathing heavy. Peter was doubled over with his hands on his knees panting as well. He hadn't realized how fast they'd actually run.

"That…was…Lucy?!" Peter gasped in between breaths.

"I guess," Mike replied. Peter swallowed and stood upright having sufficiently caught his breath.

"What is she doing here?!"

"That's just what I was going to ask."

"Maybe she got back from her trip early?"

"I don't think so. You heard what she said. She was bored at home. She never left."

"So she lied to Micky?"

"Either that or he lied to us."

"I doubt that. Micky's not a liar."

"I agree with you, Pete, but then that leaves us with her being the liar."

"Why would she lie about something like that?"

"To convince him to spend the entire night with her."

"So we're back to that."

"Yes. All we have now is proof that she's an underhanded, sneaky little she-devil."

"Mike!" Peter said looking at him in shock. Mike wasn't surprised; he really didn't talk about people like that all too often. But in this case she deserved it.

"What? You don't agree with me? She's playing Micky for a fool. She's trying to sabotage him. She's playing a game with his heart and because of that she is an underhanded, sneaky she-devil!"

"I agree with you, but this doesn't really tell us why she's doing it."

"No, it doesn't. We'll just have to follow her to see if we can find that out." Mike and Peter took up a post in the alley. They had no idea how long they'd have to wait there, but they were resolved. They'd find out why this woman was lying to Micky one way or another.

* * *

Davy worked through his shift silently. He was still rather angry and upset at Mike for blowing up at Micky like that, but it was mostly because he was so deep in thought. He hadn't expected Mike to agree that returning home was a good idea so readily. After Mike had stormed out, he was a little upset that Peter had followed him. Davy had though that Mike deserved to be alone. He knew that was his anger more than anything, so he'd let it drop after calling after Peter went nowhere. He decided that he had an hour before he had to be at work, so he decided to just leave early. Everyone's tensions were so high, including his own, so he thought it best to just leave and try and calm down.

Now his shift was almost over and he was still a little upset. He wasn't seething as he had been before, but he was upset thinking that Mike wanted to go home to Texas. Normally he would have just realized Mike probably hadn't meant it and that he'd just said it out of anger. But his thoughts went back to that strange conversation he'd had with Micky a week prior. Micky had mentioned that he thought Mike had been thinking about going home. So did this outburst between them all prove Micky right? Was Mike really thinking about leaving them? And if he was, what did that mean for the rest of the group? What did that mean for Davy?

Davy sighed as he clocked out for the end of his shift. He wasn't sure he was ready to go home yet. He didn't know if he wanted to hear what Mike had to say. He was surprised to see Micky outside leaning against the car as though he were waiting for him. He was gripped by worry wondering if something had happened. This was twice now that Micky had shown up at his work to wait for him.

"Micky," Davy said when he approached the car. "Is everything ok?"

"Let's go back to that diner," Micky answered. "We need to talk."

"Sure," Davy nodded and followed Micky back to the diner in silence. They quietly took a booth near the back and ordered two sodas.

"I think we should figure out what we're gonna do," Micky said after the server brought them their drinks.

"What do you mean?" Davy asked.

"Well, I mean that this proves that Mike is thinking about leaving. That I'm not crazy. We need to think about what we're gonna do if he does."

"I don't know. I've never really thought about what I'd do if any of you left."

"Neither have I, but we kind of have to now, don't we."

"Why don't we just talk to him?"

"Yeah, cause talking worked so well for us earlier. I don't really want to fight with him again."

"Neither do I, but what else can we do?"

"We do what I just said. We figure out a way to move on."

"Move on?"

"Yeah, without Mike, we need to figure out how to pay for the pad and our food."

"But-" Davy started, but Micky had already rolled on to his next thought.

"Listen, Davy, I have an idea. I have a friend who's got a job that he needs a little help with. He's willing to pay us a hefty sum if we help him."

"What kind of a job?"

"I don't have all the details yet, but I think this will be good for us. You and I. We can prove that we don't need Mike."

"Is it a show?"

"Of sorts. But it'll be good for us."

"I don't know, Micky. I don't think I can perform without Mike."

"So what, are you gonna go back to England with your tail between your legs? Or are you gonna pull yourself up and move on? I for one don't want to be dependent on anyone. I thought you wanted the same thing."

"It's not that I'm dependent on Mike-"

"That's what it sounds like. Mike's already got one foot out the door, man. We can either do the same if we want to do anything with our lives, or we can sit and wallow in our misery and despair. Mope over a man who doesn't give two shakes about us."

"Now hold it, Micky! Mike cares about us and you know it!" Davy felt himself get a little angry. How could Micky be so quick to just kick Mike out of their lives? To just let him go without a fight? And to say that he didn't care? He glared at Micky who seemed to recoil from his outburst for a moment.

"Obviously not well enough to stay," he said after a few seconds.

"Don't count him out yet, Micky!" Davy countered jumping up from the table and now visibly angry. "He's not gone. He probably said that he was leaving out of anger. I am not going to just give up on him like that. And you shouldn't either. We've all been through way too much together to just give up on each other. I don't know what's gotten in to you, but I'm done talking about it. I'm going home. To talk to Mike."


	5. Saboteur

Author's Note: Sorry for the late posting….i've had a bad week. Really bad. Almost died from a falling ceiling, then I had a bad reaction to allergy meds of all things, then my car died…..bad, bad week, but I keep telling myself "tomorrow's gonna be another day"….i blame the corniness on my being at work with 1 hour of sleep under my belt…hope you like the story though!

Chapter 5: Saboteur

Peter sat in the alley with Mike waiting for Lucy to get off work so they could follow her. When she finally did, it was really late at night and the two were very tired. Mr. Vidic had left right after she got there, and the two had to duck behind a dumpster to avoid being seen. Now Lucy came out of the store and turned around to lock the door. They followed very carefully and quietly behind her as she walked to a parking lot. Peter's heart sank. She had a car; they didn't.

"Great," Mike said as they watched her walk to the only car in the lot and fish keys out of her purse. "How could I not have anticipated this?"

"Don't feel bad, Mike," Peter said. "I didn't think of it either." They were forced to watch as she drove away.

"We sat in that alley over 8 hours," Mike grumbled. "It's almost midnight. What a complete waste."

"Maybe not," Peter said as she drove away and a shiny metal object caught his eye next to where her car had been. Peter ran across the parking lot once he was sure she was out of sight. Mike followed him looking confused. When Peter got closer, he realized that there was a key on the ground glinting under the street light. Peter picked it up and realized that the key ring on it was broken.

"Looks like this broke when she got her keys out of her bag," Mike said as he took the key from Peter to inspect it further. "Look, there's writing on it! It says "Vidic" in marker. This is the key to the shop!"

"That's a bad thing to drop in the road for anyone to see and pick up," Peter said.

"Actually, Peter, I think this is quite fortuitous for us. We can sneak in to the shop and snoop around. See if we can't find an address for Lucy or anything else."

"Well then, I guess we're lucky she dropped it."

"And lucky you saw it. Come on!" Peter nodded and followed Mike to the front door of the shop. They both looked around to make sure no one was watching before Mike put the key in the lock and turned it. The door opened without problem and the two crept in slowly and carefully.

"Where should we start?" Peter asked whispering. He wasn't really sure why; there was no one in here.

"Back room probably," Mike whispered back. They made their way to a door in the back of the store. Mike pushed, but it wouldn't open.

"Is it locked?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, let's see if we can find a key somewhere." Both began looking around the back counter for a key. After a few minutes, Peter found a set of keys. Surely one of them would open the back room. Peter turned to tell Mike he may have found it, but stopped when he realized Mike was staring at something else.

"What is that?" Peter asked walking closer to Mike to get a good look at it.

"It's a bottle of sleeping pills," Mike said. "It's prescribed to Lucy."

"I would have problems sleeping too if I were a liar," Peter mused.

"Yeah, it's probably nothing," Mike said putting the bottle back.

"I found a set of keys!" Peter said excitedly as he showed Mike the keys.

"Great!" Mike said as he smiled and took the keys from Peter. Mike spent about five minutes fitting the different keys in the lock until he finally found one that worked. Peter kept staring out the front door the whole time. He knew what they were doing was illegal and he was so afraid that the cops were going to walk by and see them. Peter felt bad for doing this, but he felt even more anger towards Lucy and wanted to get proof of her misdeeds before talking to Micky. Peter didn't often get angry, but he always would when someone was hurting one of his friends.

Once the back door was open, they both walked in the room and quickly shut the door behind them. The back room was filled with boxes of merchandise. It was hard for the two to navigate with that many boxes, but they soon found a desk with a filing cabinet next to it. Peter sat at the desk and began rifling through various papers left on it while Mike tried to unlock the filing cabinet. Most of the papers were order forms or daily sales figures; none of which really mattered to Peter. What caught Peter's eye was a folder labeled 'Lucy'. He tapped Mike a little to draw his attention to the folder. Mike looked over Peter's shoulder as he flipped through the folder. The first few pages looked to be notes taken on customer's orders, then there were a few meaningless order forms.

"Nothing," Mike muttered as Peter closed the folder. Mike went back to trying to open the filing cabinet. Peter noticed a small folded up paper had fallen from the folder and into his lap. He opened it to discover a handwritten note.

"_Excellent work on sabotaging the boy. Adding the sleeping pills to his drink was a nice touch. I have already informed M. of your actions and quick thinking. M. is very pleased. He only wishes he could have been there to see the boys fight. _

_W. V."_

"Well, this doesn't sound good," Peter said showing Mike the note. Mike's face paled as he read the note.

"Do you know what this means, Peter?" He asked.

"That she not only lied, but she drugged him," Peter answered scathingly. That one little tidbit of information jumped out at him like a hot knife.

"Not just that, but she's working for someone else. So is Mr. Vidic. He must be "W.V." There's a conspiracy here. Someone hired them to sabotage all of us at the audition."

"Why?"

"I have no idea, Peter. But I think we need to find out who is behind this. Who this "M" person is."

"What should we do now?"

"I think we should show this to Micky and Davy when we get home, but for now try and see if we can figure out who "M" is." Mike folded the note back up and shoved it in his pocket. They looked around a little more to see if they could find anything on "M", but couldn't find anything. They had even gone through customer orders, but there were about 50 customers whose first name was "M" and none of them sounded familiar to either of them.

A little disappointed that they couldn't find more information, but still at least pleased their night wasn't a total bust, they began to walk to the bus stop that would take them home. Peter's brain buzzed the entire time. Who was this person trying to sabotage them? And most importantly, why? He had never felt this angry in his entire life. Someone had paid Lucy to pretend to fall in love with Micky for the purposes of hurting him. To use him like a toy. Not only that, but she had drugged him with sleeping pills. People had hurt Peter in the past, but this was very different. It was one thing to come after him and use him; it was another thing entirely to do it to one of his friends.

* * *

Micky woke up the next morning pretty early. He sat in bed for a while, however, not wanting to face his friends just yet. So instead he just lay there staring at the ceiling. He wasn't sure how long he lay there before he smelled pancakes and decided to just tough it out and head downstairs for some food. He was really hungry. At the top of the stairs, he saw Peter and Mike sitting at the kitchen table whispering over a piece of paper. He was actually surprised they were awake. It was still very early.

"What are you guys doing up this early?" Micky asked as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Couldn't sleep that well," Mike answered as he quickly scooped up the paper they were whispering over.

"I got about 5 hours," Peter supplied.

"Oh, sorry to hear that," Micky said walking over to the stack of pancakes sitting on the table. Micky started eating his pancakes, but felt very nervous. Mike and Peter were being very quiet and it was a little unnerving. Finally he couldn't take it anymore and he pushed the plate away from him.

"What's wrong with you guys?" he asked.

"Wrong?" Peter asked innocently.

"You're quiet. Way too quiet. It's a little creepy."

"Well, we do have to talk to you about something," Mike said. They both suddenly looked very nervous.

"What?" Micky said after a few moments of silence. He wasn't sure if there was going to be a continuation of their argument the previous day.

"Well, umm…" Mike started. "First I want to say I'm sorry for some of the things I said yesterday. I was angry and wasn't thinking clearly."

"I'm sorry, too," Micky said. "I was tired and cranky. I don't really want you to go back to Texas."

"Me neither," Mike said. "But there's something Pete and I have to tell you. We think that umm…" Mike stopped momentarily to look at Peter as if for support.

"What is it, Mike?" Micky pushed.

"Well, we think that Lucy is using you," Mike finally said. Micky couldn't believe his ears. Mike had just apologized to him, and now he was attacking Lucy? As if it was her fault?

"What?!" Micky exclaimed.

"Just hear us out, Micky," Peter said. "We found a note that proves she's trying to sabotage us." Mike pulled the paper out and slid it across the table to Micky. He couldn't help it; as much as he thought his friends had gone completely batty, he read it anyway.

"This doesn't say anything," Micky scoffed.

"What do you mean!?" Peter asked jabbing his finger into the paper in anger. "It's right here, Micky. Clear as day. It says that she was sabotaging you and that she gave you sleeping pills!"

"I can see what the note says, Peter," Micky said pushing himself up and away from the table, "but where does it say it's about me and Lucy?! Who is "M"? This doesn't prove anything other than you two have lost your marbles."

"We couldn't figure out who "M" is," Mike protested standing up, "but we know this is about you. It was written for Lucy."

"How do you know that?! Where did you find it?"

"In Mr. Vidic's shop," Peter said jumping up. "It was in a folder with Lucy's name on it in the back room on a desk. The "W.V." is William Vidic."

"How did you get to the back room?" Micky asked wary of what their answer was going to be.

"We sort of found a key and…" Peter answered staring guiltily at his feet.

"You broke in you mean?" Micky said his anger level rising again.

"We didn't have a choice, Micky," Mike said. "She lied to you. She never left town. We went to the shop yesterday and saw her there."

"So you were spying on her!?" Micky all but shouted.

"Well, not at first," Peter mumbled. Micky nearly lost it.

"Micky, just listen to us," Mike started, but Micky cut him off. He was too angry to listen to anything. His two best friends had betrayed him; they had gone behind his back and spied on his girlfriend.

"No! Let me get this straight, you two decide that blaming me for what happened yesterday made you feel guilty, so you decided to pin the blame on Lucy and go to her work to try and dig up dirt on her? How could you even think about doing something like that to me!?"

"Micky, you aren't hearing us!" Mike said also raising his voice now.

"What are you guys arguing about now?" Davy asked emerging from his room and rubbing his eyes from sleepiness. "And why couldn't it wait for a more decent hour?"

"I'm sorry we woke you, Davy," Peter mumbled.

"Nothing, Davy," Micky seethed. "Just go back to bed."

"Micky, please," Mike pled. He sounded desperate, but Micky was too angry to care.

"I heard you, Mike. Both of you. Loud and clear. I thought you were my friends." The words left his mouth before he could even stop them. He glared at Peter who slumped back into his chair at Micky's last set of words. He looked as though Micky had just slapped him in the face. Micky realized he may as well have.

"Micky, I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Micky, don't say things like that," Mike said. His voice was low and almost broken. "We only did what we did because we care about you and don't want to see you get hurt."

"The only people hurting anyone else around here is you," Micky spat. "Lucy isn't trying to hurt me. I made the decision to stay with her all night. Ok? So back off." Micky spun around to climb up the stairs to his room. In doing so, he nearly knocked over a very stunned and confused looking Davy, but he didn't care. He just wanted to get away from all of them. He ran back into his room and slammed the door.

* * *

Davy stood at the base of the stairs in stunned silence. He jumped a little when Micky slammed his bedroom door. He had no idea what had just happened. All he knew was that he had woken up with Mike and Micky going at it again. Although it seemed this time Peter was on Mike's side. When he'd first woken up, he couldn't tell what Micky was saying, just that he was angry and yelling, so he had no idea what they were arguing about.

He looked at each of his friends in turn after Micky slammed the door. Mike looked like he was fighting between being angry and being hurt. Peter on the other hand looked like he was about to cry. Davy couldn't blame him. He knew that their friendship meant everything to Peter and for Micky to imply that Peter hadn't been a good friend was cold. Davy knew in his heart that Mike was right; whatever the two of them had done to make Micky so angry had been done with the best of intentions.

"Well _that_ went well," Mike muttered walking over to Peter. "You ok, Pete?"

"Y-yeah," Peter replied unconvincingly.

"What just happened?" Davy asked walking over to join the other two at the table.

"Davy, I really am sorry we woke you up," Mike said turning to him but placing a hand over Peter's as if trying to give him some strength. Peter really did look like he'd crumble any minute. "And I'm sorry about everything that happened yesterday. I didn't mean those things I said."

"That's fine," Davy said waving it off. "Everyone was just really cranky. Just tell me what happened now?"

"We sort of got this feeling that Lucy had played Micky," Mike said. "Peter pointed out that it really wasn't like Micky to be so irresponsible and that it was Lucy who had kept pressuring him to stay out. So we wanted to see why. We went to her store to try and get information and we ran directly into her."

"I thought she was out of town," Davy said remembering that had been one of the reasons Micky decided to stay with her instead of coming home to sleep.

"Exactly," Peter mumbled. "She lied to Micky. She never left."

"So we decided to follow her, but didn't think about the fact that she had a car and we didn't," Mike added. "But Peter noticed she dropped the key to the shop, so we went snooping and found this." Mike handed a piece of paper to Davy. As Davy read, he felt his heart breaking for Micky. "It was in a folder with her name on it. The shop owner's name is William Vidic; the person who signed it, 'W.V.', has to be him."

"Why would she need to slip him sleeping pills if she had succeeded in keeping him up all night anyway?" Davy asked.

"Insurance probably," Mike answered. "I'll bet she did it to ensure he'd be really, really tired. Maybe she even wanted him to pass out on stage."

"But why?"

"I don't know," Mike answered. "But we need to find out. And fast."


	6. Surprises

Author's Note: Short chapter, but I think it works. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 6: Surprises

Micky paced his room fervently. He was seething and he wasn't sure what he wanted to do. How could his friends go behind his back like that? If they didn't trust his girlfriend, they should have said something to him, not spy and snoop on her. It wasn't right. A small voice in the back of his head told him that they had only been looking out for his best interests. But they still should have talked to him about it. The voice asked him how that would have gone over after the explosive fight they'd had yesterday. It also said that they were trying to find evidence to support their theory before they spoke to him, which by all accounts was the better way to do it. He simply told the voice that he didn't care; they still should never have spied on his girlfriend. He didn't find it odd that he seemed to be arguing with himself, though most probably would have.

He sunk onto his bed in despair. No matter how much he tried to argue, the voice in his head was right. He'd flown off the handle prematurely. He really should have listened to Mike. Sure, they had broken into Vidic's shop, but they had found that note which did seem to be written to Lucy. But he still refused to believe that someone that amazing and beautiful could be evil; someone that smart, funny, sweet and caring could do something like that. He thought he was falling in love with her. He couldn't stand to find out that it was all a lie.

He lay down in his bed and stared at the ceiling again. He thought back to when they had first met. Micky had walked into a flower shop to try and buy some flowers for his mother's birthday, but started sneezing uncontrollably when he tried to smell them. She'd laughed. A cute, innocent little giggle. But it had made him look at her and for a second he'd stopped sneezing. She'd walked over to him and handed him a tissue with an equally beautiful and innocent smile. He'd explained to her he was trying to pick some flowers for his mother's birthday, but didn't know what to get. She'd complimented him on being such a good son and helped him pick out a beautiful arrangement. How could someone like that be using him?

He remembered their first date. He had set up a little picnic on the beach complete with romantic candlelight. She had smiled so warmly at him, even though the food had ended up being so terrible. She had never questioned his lack of money, but had always commended him for thinking outside the box while trying to stay romantic. He remembered the first time they'd kissed on that beach. He'd felt the spark that he'd felt at the flower shop turn into a much larger flame. He couldn't admit to himself that all those feelings were lies. All those soft smiles and innocent laughs were fabrications meant to lure him into a trap.

He got up and crossed over to his dresser pulling a few clothes on, not caring if they matched or not. The only thing that mattered to him now was proving them wrong. They _had_ to be wrong. Pulling boots on, he repeated this mantra in his head over and over again. His friends were wrong. He loved Lucy and she loved him. And he'd prove it. Somehow. Without thinking, he opened the window to his room and climbed down the side of the house until he reached the ground. He tried desperately to tell the voice in his head to shut up. The voice that was telling him his friends were probably right and he was only going to lead himself to a whole world of pain and suffering. Going to Lucy's wasn't going to prove his friends wrong. It was only going to prove his friends right. After all, she had told him she was going to be out of town and her being home would in fact be a point in the "Mike was right" column.

"You're wrong," he said aloud as he started walking towards the nearest bus stop. He knew he was trying to direct that comment at the voice in his head and his friends, but couldn't help feeling he was only trying to convince himself.

* * *

"So what should we do now?" Davy asked. Mike looked at his friend who he'd been so angry at the day before and took a deep breath. Davy looked scared and angry. His eyes flashed back and forth as the different emotions fought it out inside him. Just like they were doing in Mike's own body. He really didn't know what they should do. He had been planning on Micky listening to them, but that hadn't worked. Micky was too far in with this girl. He was in love with her, and he knew that love makes you do some really stupid things.

"I don't know, Davy," he answered. "I hadn't really formed a plan B."

"Maybe we should try talking to Micky again," Peter suggested. "If all three of us talk to him, maybe he'll listen." Mike looked at his other friend. He'd been so full of resolve just minutes earlier. Peter had been pushing Mike to talk to Micky and get this all over with, but now he looked like a miserable mess. Mike had been stung by Micky's comment implying they hadn't been very good friends, but he knew Peter had taken it much, much harder. He also knew Peter was smart enough not to believe it.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Mike said. "I think we'll just push him farther away."

"I agree with Mike," Davy said. "He's in too much denial right now. We need solid proof he can't refute."

"Or we need to just find out who this "M" guy is and why he wants to hurt us," Peter added.

"I can't really think of anyone that fits that description," Davy said.

"We've made a lot of enemies over the years, Davy," Mike said.

"Yeah, but they're all in jail now," Davy said. "Aren't they?"

"They should be, but what did the note say? 'He only wishes he could have been there to see the boys fight.' That would imply that whoever he is, or even she, they aren't around, right?"

"Unless they just weren't here when it happened," Peter suggested. A thought hit Mike like a ton of bricks. Why hadn't he thought of this before?

"Wait a minute!" he exclaimed and bolted up out of the chair so quickly Davy and Peter jumped. "Davy, when Peter and I left yesterday after the fight, where did Micky go?"

"To bed," Davy answered. "Why?"

"Right. And did you happen to tell Lucy or anyone else we had a fight?"

"No."

"Neither did Peter and I. So if Micky went straight to bed, you didn't say anything, Peter didn't say anything, and I didn't say anything…"

"How did they find out we had that fight?!" Davy finished jumping up from the table too.

"You think they're listening to us?" Peter said now sounding scared and looking around as though expecting to find someone lurking in the shadows.

"That's the only explanation," Mike answered. "Mr. Vidic has a lot of new technology. I wouldn't be surprised if he actually had this place bugged."

"So maybe we should stop talking then," Davy suggested.

"Agreed," Mike said. "At least here. Davy, go get dressed. We'll meet you outside." Davy nodded and dashed off to his room. Peter and Mike were already dressed, so Mike simply grabbed his keys off the counter and the two dashed out the front door as quickly as they could. It was unnerving to Mike to think that their house was bugged and that someone was listening or even watching their every move. It sent a shudder down his spine.

They didn't have to wait long for Davy to get dressed and join them in the car. Mike drove towards the main part of town. They all sat in silence, but stole several glances behind them to make sure they weren't being followed. Mike soon pulled in to a parking lot near their house and they all filed out of the car. The lot was empty, so they'd be able to tell fairly easily if someone was close enough to hear them. Even so, they all looked around nervously.

"Now what," Peter asked.

"Now we formulate our plan of attack," Mike said.

"Any idea of what that is?" Davy asked.

"Well, we know that we need more information," Mike mused. "And I think the only way we are going to get it is with more digging into our conniving little friends Lucy and Mr. Vidic."

"I suppose asking them is out of the question," Peter said.

"They definitely won't tell us anything," Davy replied. "Even if we back them into a corner."

"So we have to find out other ways of getting the information we need," Mike agreed.

"I think we found about all we could find at the shop already," Peter said.

"Right, so now we go deeper. We need to tail them. This time we have the car. Hopefully they actually meet with this "M" person and we can find out who he is."

"We don't know where they live," Peter argued.

"So we go to the store. Follow whichever one is there."

"Mike, you have to be at the grocery store in an hour," Davy reminded him.

"Oh yeah," Mike said. He'd forgotten all about work in all the chaos and madness. "I'll just call in sick."

"Don't do that," Peter said. "We need the money and Davy and I can handle this without you. We'll drop you off at the store, and then head over to Vidic's."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Davy agreed. Mike was reluctant to leave such an important task to them, but Peter had a point about needing the money. And he'd been the one that had found the key the night before. And the note. He nodded albeit somewhat reluctantly. It wasn't that he didn't trust them to do it; it was more that he wanted to be there. He felt guilty for having blown up at Micky when it wasn't entirely his fault. For all he knew, Micky still could have played well enough if Lucy hadn't drugged him. He felt as though he had to make amends and figuring out who was behind all this was going to be the way he'd do it.

"Just be careful, guys," he said as Peter took the keys from Mike and they all piled back in the car. "Make sure you stay far enough behind you aren't seen, but not too far that you can't see them."

"Got it, Mike," Peter said. "We can handle this."

* * *

Micky walked up the driveway that led to Lucy's house. It had taken him a little over an hour to get here, but the voice in his head hadn't gotten any quieter. His feet hurt from walking so much in shoes that offered little to no support, but he ignored them. He was almost where he wanted to be. He'd push it a little farther. He still wasn't entirely sure of what he was going to say or do. He'd gone over several scenarios in his head on the way over, but he didn't like any of them. The voice in his head told him that was because he knew his friends were right and that he was only lying to himself.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door, once more ignoring the voice in his head telling him this would not end well and that he should just go home. He waited for only a few minutes before Lucy answered the door. He wasn't really sure why he was surprised. He thought she was out of town, but Mike and Peter had said they'd seen her. And he had walked over here with the full intention of talking to her. Maybe her being here proved them right. _No, _he told the voice in his head. There had to be an explanation.

"Micky!" she said when she saw him. Her face, however, showed a great deal of surprise. "What are you doing here? I told you I was leaving yesterday morning."

"And yet you're standing in your doorway," he answered. He didn't want to sound cold and accusative, but it just came out that way.

"I know," she said. "I'm sorry. The trip was cancelled. The moderator came down with a really bad case of the flu. Come in, Micky. You look awful."

"I feel awful," he said as he followed her inside. _Ha!_ He told the voice in his head. She had indeed given a perfectly reasonable explanation for her being home.

"Why?" she asked directing him to sit in a chair in her living room. Micky took a deep breath, unsure how he should approach this.

"My friends and I had a fight," he said. "Well, two fights really."

"I thought you said you guys never fought?"

"We don't. That's why this is bothering me so much. We've fought twice now in the past two days. I was so tired at that audition that we blew it. Mike ripped into me for that. Which he had every right to, but I was so tired and cranky, I fought back."

"I'm sorry, Micky," she said. "That's sort of my fault, too."

"No, it was my decision. I could have said 'no'. And this morning they tried to tell me that…" he trailed off. He knew if he told her that his friends were spying on her, she would get upset and didn't want to hurt her.

"Tell you what? You can talk to me."

"It's not that I can't; I don't want to hurt you."

"How would it hurt me?"

"They attacked you. They said you were using me. I told them they were wrong."

"Why did they say something like that?"

"They said that you were trying to sabotage me. That you drugged me with sleeping pills or something. You have to know I told them they were crazy. I'm so sorry, Lucy."

"I know you told them that, Micky. And don't be sorry. I'm not mad at you."

"But I am sorry, Lucy. I told them they were wrong and I just couldn't stay there. I had to see you. Lucy, I…I think I love you." He looked straight into her eyes as he said it. She smiled back at him. Her warm beautiful smile. Her eyes sparkled with warmth. _I told you they were wrong, _he told the little voice in his head. _How can someone resonate such warmth and beauty and be so devious? _Micky felt himself relax and release a lot of tension he didn't know he had.

"Micky, that's very sweet. You don't have to keep apologizing to me. I think I love you, too." With her words, Micky felt himself relax completely. She loved him back. He had absolutely nothing to worry about anymore. His friends _were_ wrong. As if to prove it, she leaned in to kiss him. It was a very passionate kiss that Micky gladly relished in. After everything that he had been through, it was nice to finally be able to know for sure that someone loved him. He almost fell out of his chair when she pulled away.

"I'll be right back," she whispered to him. "Just stay here. Keep comfortable. I have a surprise for you." She smiled and walked towards the kitchen behind him. Micky did as he was told and relaxed in the chair. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the back of the chair. It was because he had his eyes closed, he didn't see what was about to happen. He jumped up when he felt a rope wrap around his neck. He tried to fight back, but whoever was trying to choke him was strong. Much too strong for him. Much too strong to have been Lucy. Whoever it was stood behind him and pulled him back into a seated position making it even harder to fight back. After only a few seconds of struggling, Micky's world went dark.


	7. Switched

Author's Note: Let me know what you think. I'm kinda cranking these out fast now. :D.

Chapter 7: Switched

Peter pulled the car next to a curb a few doors down from Vidic's electronics shop. Their car was rather flashy, so he had to park far enough away that anyone exiting the shop wouldn't really pay any attention to them. Peter was extremely nervous and really wished that Mike was here with them, but he also knew that he could do this. He took a deep breath and turned off the car, but left the key in the ignition so he would be able to start it again quickly if he needed to.

"I'm gonna go inside and see who's working," Davy said as he got out of the car.

"Good idea," Peter said. "Be careful." Davy just smiled and started walking over to the shop. Peter watched as he disappeared inside it. He held his breath for a few moments until Davy walked back out casually. Once he got halfway to the car he picked up the pace before jumping back in.

"There's a guy in there in a white lab coat talking to a customer," Davy said.

"That's Mr. Vidic," Peter answered. "So now we just wait." As they waited they saw several people come in and out of the store. Late in the afternoon, they finally saw Mr. Vidic exit the shop. Peter turned on the engine and they watched Mr. Vidic cross to the same parking lot they had found the key in. They watched as he pulled out onto the street and started to head west. They followed at least 4 car lengths behind for a full 15 minutes before Mr. Vidic pulled into a neighborhood. He pulled into a garage not too far in, so Peter chose to drive past the house and park further up the street so they wouldn't be seen.

Carefully they made their way up the street to the house that Mr. Vidic had pulled into. They crept behind some bushes under a window to hide. They carefully peered into the window, but had to duck back down very quickly as Mr. Vidic was in the room. Peter was worried that they had been seen for a minute, but quickly realized they hadn't. The window was open a crack so they could hear what was happening in the house. He was pacing the room and talking on the phone with someone.

"Yes, sir," he was saying. "I understand. I didn't see anyone following me, but I'll stay home just in case." Peter heard him hang up the phone and heard his footsteps fade away as he left the room. Davy slowly peered through the window again.

"He's gone," Davy said.

"Yeah, but he knows we're following him," Peter agreed. "So what do we do now? We can't search his house. He's not going to leave it."

"Well, we need to get some information somehow!" Davy exclaimed.

"Ssh!" Peter reminded him hoping Davy hadn't just been heard. "How are we going to do that, Davy? We can't very well snoop around while he's still there!"

"I have an idea," Davy whispered. "Maybe if I distract him, you can get in there and snoop around! I'll bet you can lift this window the rest of the way up and climb in."

"How are you going to distract him?"

"Leave that to me. Just lift the window when I ring the doorbell. That way he won't hear it. I'll count to three, ok?"

"Davy, be very careful please."

"I will. You too, ok? I'm gonna get some supplies from the car. Be right back." Peter nodded and positioned himself under the window so he could lift it easily. He slipped his fingers in the crack and waited. Davy ran over to the car, pulled a suit and fake mustache out of the trunk and slipped them on. Then he placed a hat on his head, grabbed several magazines from the back seat and ran back over to the house and walked to the front door. He cleared his throat and held up his hand. He quietly counted to three on his fingers and just as he rang the doorbell, Peter lifted the window.

Sure enough, the sound of the doorbell covered the sound of the window opening and Mr. Vidic answered the door without any suspicion. Davy launched into a salesman routine trying to get him to buy some of the magazines he had while Peter climbed into the window. He made sure to keep an ear on the conversation outside so he would know when Mr. Vidic was coming back so he could climb back out the window.

"Hello, good sir!" Davy was saying. "Might I interest you in a few magazines? There are some wonderful articles here you might be interested in. This one has an article on a new washing machine!" Peter laughed a little as Davy tried his very best to keep Mr. Vidic distracted. He was even nearly shouting his words and adopting a much thicker accent making it hard to understand him. This tactic seemed to work because Mr. Vidic kept asking Davy to repeat himself.

Peter stood in what appeared to be a dining room. There was a large table in the center of the room and he could see the kitchen through an open door. His first thought was that maybe there'd be an address book by the phone. So Peter quickly crossed over to where he saw the phone sitting on a small end table in the corner of the room. There was no address book, but there was a piece of paper sitting next to it. There were letters and a phone number scribbled on the paper. Peter quickly pulled a pencil and scrap of paper out of his pocket to copy it down. The letters read "B.M.". This meant nothing to Peter other than maybe they were the initials for whoever "M" was. Maybe if they called the number back at the pad, they would be able to recognize the voice on the other end.

"Oh, but sir, these magazines are high quality!" Davy was saying. Mr. Vidic was getting frustrated and trying to leave, so Davy was trying his best to keep him out longer. "They are printed on the finest paper! Recycled even! Don't you care about the environment?"

"I cannot understand you, boy!" Mr. Vidic countered. "You are going to have to speak quieter and enunciate more or else leave me alone!" Peter knew he didn't have much more time, so he quickly dashed into the kitchen. He looked around frantically, but found nothing helpful. Then he walked over to the doorway leading to the living room. Mr. Vidic had his back to Peter so he didn't see him. He was now in a debate with Davy over certain ways to help the environment. Dare Peter go search the living room? Davy seemed to notice him and as if to urge him to do so, raised his voice even louder and began waving the magazines around frantically as one would in a very heated argument. This kept Mr. Vidic sufficiently distracted and the noise level was high enough that Peter wouldn't be heard as long as he was careful. Peter took a deep breath and crept into the living room, walking right behind Mr. Vidic.

He crossed over to the coffee table and found nothing of interest but a few technology magazines and a fishing magazine. This sparked an idea, so he picked up the fishing magazine and showed it to Davy. Davy gave him a look that said he'd seen it, so Peter went back to his searching. He went to another end table with another phone and found an address book. He flipped through it while listening to Davy and Mr. Vidic finish their debate.

"Look, sir, I can see we are just going to disagree, but might I interest you in this fishing magazine?" Peter stifled a laugh knowing that for some reason Micky had picked up a fishing magazine a week prior. Looks like it had come in handy. He'd remember to thank Micky when this was all over.

None of the names in the address book jumped out at him, except for "L. Stills". They already had Lucy's phone number, but now they had her address as well. Peter quickly jotted it down along with the phone number for "B.M." he'd written earlier and shoved the paper back in his pocket. He made sure to place the address book back where he'd found it and looked around again. He couldn't really think of any other place to look, so he carefully crept back over to the window he'd crawled in through. He'd done it just in time as Mr. Vidic finally lost his temper and began yelling at Davy to leave him alone. Peter leapt through the open window and quickly closed it again. The sound of the closing window was muffled by the sound of the slamming of the front door. Peter sat there for a second trying to catch his breath. He'd come within a few seconds of being caught. He jumped when Davy walked over to the bushes.

"That was close," Davy said.

"Yeah," Peter breathed.

"Did you find anything?"

"Not much. I got Lucy's address and a phone number for someone with the initials "B.M.". But nothing else. Should we go to Lucy's?"

"No," Davy answered checking his watch. "We should meet back up with Mike. He should be off by now and we have to pick him up. Mike will decide what we should do next."

"Good idea," Peter said. Davy helped him to his feet and they quickly made their way to the car to tell Mike what they'd found. Peter just hoped it was information they could actually use.

* * *

Micky moaned a little and opened his eyes a crack. His neck hurt. His head hurt. In fact most of his body was sore. It took him a moment to figure out why, but then he remembered. Someone had tried to strangle him. He snapped his eyes open and tried to get up, but realized he was tied to a chair. He pulled and fought against the ropes that bound him, but he was tied tightly. He couldn't break free or even loosen them. He remembered he was at Lucy's house when he'd been attacked and desperately tried to look around for her. All he saw was a large room that appeared to be a basement of some sort. Dirt lined the floor and the walls were made of brick. There was a furnace in one corner and crates lined the opposite wall. A staircase led to the only door in the room. There were no windows.

"Lucy!" Micky called trying to see if she was down here somewhere too. If he had been attacked, who knew what had happened to her. "Lucy, where are you?" He was met only by silence. He struggled again to free himself, but it proved just as fruitless as it had seconds prior. Suddenly the door opened and someone began walking down the stairs. A cold breeze hit him and he realized he was sitting in just socks and his boxers. Now he was really confused.

"Shut up, Dolenz," said a very familiar voice. Micky's blood turned cold when he heard it. It was his own voice. He looked up and stared into his own face.

"B-babyface?" Micky stuttered. "When did you get out of jail?"

"A few months ago," he replied. Babyface Morales was the leader of a criminal gang who bore a very uncanny resemblance to Micky. He'd heard the joke before that everyone had a double out there, but never believed it until he met Babyface. Micky, Peter, and Mike had worked together to capture the members of his gang when the police had arrested Babyface, but he'd escaped and Micky and his friends then had to re-capture Babyface too.

"What did you do to Lucy?" Micky demanded. Micky's heart sank when he heard Babyface laugh.

"Lucy?!" he asked incredulously. "You are so thick, you know that? You still really believe that Lucy loves you? She's been working for me the whole time, idiot. I hired her to get close to you. She's a notoriously famous seductress in the criminal world. Made even the best of men crumble to their knees. But I would have thought you would have figured it out when she told me to take care of you. Your friends told you she was no good, and you still refuse to believe it. What a shame." Micky's heart shattered at his words. His friends really had been right. The voice in his head had been right. Why didn't he listen? He hung his head in despair. "You were way too easy to manipulate. I thought it would take longer to split you from your friends. Lucy was very smart. She saw an opportunity and took it. Slipping you some sleeping pills to blow your audition and create anger and tension between your friends? Now that's a stroke of genius. I don't think I'm paying her enough."

"Is that what you want then?" Micky asked. He tried to force himself to sound strong, but his voice came out weak and broken. "To make us fight with each other?"

"Not exactly. I needed you to pull away from each other before I could work on what I really want."

"And what is that?"

"Revenge, Dolenz. You can't just impersonate me then get me arrested and think you can get away with it. You will pay for what you did. You and your little friends."

"Leave them alone. I did this to you. Not them."

"No, you all played your parts. Except for the little Englishman. But I'm quite sure he would have had he been around. But that's why he's going to play an extra special role in my plan."

"Leave him alone!" Micky yelled trying yet again to free himself of his bonds. Babyface laughed again before walking closer to Micky and pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. He wrapped it around Micky's mouth effectively gagging him.

"I told you to shut up, didn't I? Now, be a good boy and sit still. I want you to see what's going to happen. I have to change my plans a little bit because your friends are meddling a little too much for my liking, but that's ok. I have a way around that. I will succeed in seeing you suffer." He watched as Babyface walked over to a pile of clothes on the floor. He picked them up and put them on. They were the clothes Micky had been wearing when he'd been attacked. Realization struck him like a ton of bricks. Babyface was going to impersonate him. Micky struggled against the ropes tying his hands. He knew by now that his efforts would be fruitless, but he couldn't just give up. He had to keep trying. He couldn't just sit there and let his friends get hurt. He had to tell them he was sorry. He had to tell them they were right. He had to escape somehow. But nothing happened as he watched Babyface walk away.

* * *

Mike finished his shift up placing the last box of soup cans on their shelf. He folded the box up and carried it to the cardboard pile in the back room so it could be recycled later on. His thoughts had been on Micky as well as Peter and Davy his entire shift. He hated not knowing what was going on. But he knew that they would need the money once this was all over, and if Mike called in sick this close to having been hired, it might raise a red flag and he could easily lose his job. And since their audition had been sabotaged, this was their only source of income for a while. He couldn't risk losing it. He said good-bye to the manager who smiled back at him before clocking out and walking to the front of the store to wait for Davy and Peter.

A thought had occurred to him to just walk home because he didn't know how long Davy and Peter would be snooping around for, but they had agreed to meet here seeing as how the house was still probably bugged. He was just so anxious and standing there was only making it worse. At least while he was working, he was keeping himself busy so he could sort of take his mind off things, but now that he was standing there he felt his anxiety level soar. If something had gone wrong…if they'd been caught…Mike shook his head refusing to finish the thought. Peter and Davy were a lot smarter than people gave them credit for. They'd figure a way out of any trouble they may have found themselves in. Mike was sure of it. He had to be. The alternative would drive him crazy. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the red flashy Pontiac pull into the parking lot with Peter behind the wheel. Davy was sitting in the seat next to him.

"Hey, Mike," Davy said when the car had pulled up in front of him. Mike jumped in the seat behind Davy and smiled at them.

"How did it go?" Mike asked.

"Not as well as we would have liked," Davy answered.

"They are on to us," Peter added. "We followed Mr. Vidic back to his house and someone called and told him to stay there because we were following him."

"But I distracted him while Peter snuck in," Davy said. "We got Lucy's address and a phone number for someone with the initials "B.M.". What do you want us to do now?"

"Let's head home for now," Mike said after thinking for a minute. "We should check on Micky. I also want to try and find those bugs. I don't like the fact that someone could be listening to us or even watching us."

"No arguments here," Davy said. Peter pulled the car out of the parking lot and drove it to the pad. The whole drive home Davy regaled him on how he had successfully distracted Mr. Vidic. He told Mike how Peter had been incredibly brave to search Mr. Vidic's living room while Mr. Vidic was in it. Mike shot Peter a look that told him that Peter got lucky and should never do that again. Peter blushed a little. They finally pulled up to the pad and the three of them filed out of the car. When they walked in, Micky was standing in the kitchen.

"Hey, guys," he said. He looked a little solemn and something about him seemed a little off to Mike. "Where have you been?"

"We…uh…" Davy started, but trailed off looking to Mike for support.

"I was at work," Mike offered. "Davy and Peter ran an errand I asked them to run."

"More snooping around?" Micky asked his voice laced with anger. Mike tensed immediately. He really didn't want to fight again, but didn't know how he could avoid it if Micky was still this angry.

"Micky…" he started, but Micky cut him off.

"Forget it, Mike," he said. "It's not like I can trust anything you say anymore anyway."

"Micky, don't be like this," Peter pled. "We just want to help you."

"Help me? It just so happens that I talked to Lucy today. You know why she's in town? The conference she was supposed to attend was cancelled. So she went to work to try and earn a little more money. She feels guilty about my not having any money, but still paying for all of our dates, so she wants to pay for the next one. Tell me, does that sound like someone who wants to hurt me?"

"No, but…" Peter mumbled.

"But nothing, Peter. Davy, you can't really believe any of this?!"

"I-I do," Davy stuttered. Micky's face seemed to flash with anger for a second.

"Unbelievable," he said.

"I'm really sorry, Micky," Davy continued finding new strength. "But I do believe them. I think you should listen to us. Hear what we have to say."

"Ok, Davy," he said unbelievably calmly. "I'm listening." Mike moved to stand in front of Davy and Peter trying to stand in between them and Micky. If this was going to lead to another fight, Mike wanted to make sure he took the brunt of it. It was his responsibility. He'd started all of this by blowing up at Micky. But he couldn't push away the feeling that something was wrong; the feeling that something was terribly different about Micky.


	8. Imposter

Author's Note: Short chapter, I know. I had intended for this chapter to have two scenes, but the first one went a lot longer than I thought it would, so I just decided to leave it here. Gonna work on a bit of homework (hooray for chemistry and calculus….not!) then start chapter 9. It should be up fairly soon cause I already know where I'm going with it. But homework comes first. Sorry!

Chapter 8: Imposter

"Micky, we already told you that we think Lucy is using you," Mike said standing firm between Micky and his other two friends Peter and Davy. "Yes, we may have been wrong in following her and we probably should have talked to you, but would you have really listened to us any more then when we didn't have proof than you are now? We found that note in her file. There may not be any direct names on it, but why would it have been in her file if it weren't hers?"

"I don't know, Mike, but there has to be an explanation for that," Micky answered. Mike shuddered a little at the coldness lining Micky's voice. Something was terribly wrong, but Mike couldn't figure out what.

"Did you ask her?" Peter asked.

"No, because I believe her," Micky sneered.

"Ok, well we know Mr. Vidic is up to something at least," Mike said. "Peter and Davy overheard him talking to someone and they know we are following them so they told him to keep a low profile. Why would someone tell him that if he weren't up to something?"

"Why are you following him?" Micky asked.

"Because he's involved in this, Micky!" Davy exclaimed. Mike sighed. He really wanted Davy and Peter to just keep quiet and let him deal with this, but he knew that Davy was reaching the end of his rope. He tried to shoot Davy a look that told him to be quiet and let him handle it, but Davy wasn't looking at him. And Peter was only trying to help.

"How do you know that?" Micky asked.

"It has to be his initials on the note, Micky," Peter said. "He's the only "W.V." that could possibly be involved."

"Unless the note isn't for Lucy," Micky quipped. "There are hundreds of people with those initials."

"Oh come off it, Micky!" Mike snapped before Davy could. "We found it in _HIS_ shop! How could it be anyone else! Wake up, Micky! The rest of us see what is going on, here! Why can't you?! Are you seriously that blinded to this girl?"

"No, I'm not 'blinded' by her," Micky answered. "I love her. I told her that today. She told me she loved me back."

"Oh, Micky," Peter said sounding very sympathetic. Mike knew he was probably already feeling the pain that Micky was bound to feel once he discovered the truth. Why did Micky have to say he loved her? It was only going to make it harder for him to get over her. But Mike couldn't worry about that now. He had to try and convince Micky to hear reason.

"Davy, Peter, have either of you thought that maybe this is a ploy Mike came up with as a way of making amends for his behavior?" Micky said very calmly as if they were discussing what to have for dinner. Mike's blood began to boil. There was definitely something wrong here. There was no way Micky would ever accuse Mike of doing something like that.

"Micky, are you seriously that hung up on this girl that you have to concoct a ridiculous scenario like that?!" Davy exclaimed. "You know as well as I do that Mike would never do anything like that to anyone! Especially not a friend! There's no way he'd be putting any of this through this just because he felt guilty! He already apologized to me and Peter, and that's enough for me!" Anger flashed across Micky's face again. It was a facial expression Mike had never seen on his friend. Something seemed to click a little in Mike's mind. This person didn't act, talk, or have the same mannerisms as Micky. The way he was leaning against the table was even different. But how could he not be? And then it hit him! B.M! Babyface Morales! Could this really be him? Babyface was supposed to be in jail. But then again, he'd broken out of jail once before. And he doubted Micky had another double running around out there with a motive for revenge. This was the only reasonable explanation.

"Ok, everyone just calm down," Peter said. Mike would have to think fast to figure out what to do. If this was Babyface, where was Micky? Was Micky hurt? How long had Babyface been impersonating Micky? It couldn't have been that long. Mike was sure he would have noticed if it had been much longer.

"Peter's right," Mike said as calmly as possible. He took a few steps closer to Babyface who looked at him warily. "Let's look at all of this calmly and logically. I promise you that I am not making any of this up. Peter is the one who found the note after all."

"That doesn't prove anything," Babyface said.

"No, I suppose it doesn't," Mike said taking another few steps closer to Babyface. He wasn't sure if Davy or Peter had picked up on the fact that this wasn't Micky. He hoped they had. He was afraid of what would happen if Mike attacked him and Peter and Davy still thought this was their friend. "I suppose I could have snuck in there the day before and slipped the note in that file."

"Mike, what-" Peter said clearly confused as to why Mike was playing along. Mike was only doing it to keep Babyface talking so he could get close enough to attack him.

"It's ok, Peter," Mike said. "If we want Micky to hear us out, we should hear him out, too."

"But-" Davy started, but Mike cut him off.

"But nothing, Davy," he said taking another step closer to Babyface. "It's the right thing to do. We have to respect each other." He was close enough now where he could easily reach out and touch him. He slowly turned to face Babyface dead on. Babyface was eyeing him very warily, so Mike knew the time for stalling was over. He couldn't wait for Peter and Davy to figure it out. He hoped he wasn't wrong about this, but how could he not be? This clearly wasn't his friend that he'd lived with for years, and this was the only reasonable explanation. So within seconds, he swallowed his fear and attacked. He rushed into Babyface, slamming him to the ground. Babyface let out a surprised cry while Davy and Peter yelled at Mike.

"Mike!" Peter yelled.

"What are you doing!?" Davy exclaimed rushing over to try and pull Mike off Babyface. For a second, Peter and Davy succeeded in pulling Mike off him which allowed Babyface to jump up and run away.

"Have you lost your mind!?" Babyface yelled at him, still trying to pretend he was Micky. Davy and Peter held Mike back firmly.

"Guys, let go!" he exclaimed.

"No, Mike, we aren't gonna let you hurt Micky!" Peter exclaimed.

"You know darn well I would never hurt Micky!" Mike argued. He had no choice now. He had to just come out and tell them. He just hoped that didn't allow Babyface to escape. "That's NOT Micky!"

"What!?" Davy asked.

"It's Babyface Morales!" Mike explained. Peter took a second to look at Babyface before he suddenly understood and let go of Mike, but Davy still held onto him. Peter darted towards Babyface who had unfortunately anticipated this and jumped out of the way causing Peter to temporarily lose his balance and fall to the ground.

"Guys, he's gone crazy!" Babyface exclaimed. "Don't listen to him!" Mike broke free of Davy's grasp and he leapt over their couch to tackle Babyface to the ground. His head bounced off the ground a little and a small amount of blood leaked out of his nose.

"Get off me!" Babyface cried out, his voice muffled against the floorboards due to the fact Mike was pushing him into the ground with his knee. Peter rushed over as Babyface fought against Mike to help subdue him by sitting on his legs. Davy still looked confused as though he wasn't sure whether to pull Mike off the man on the ground or to help subdue him. Mike figured that Davy wouldn't get it because he had never actually met Babyface. They'd told him what had happened when he'd gotten home from visiting family in England, but apparently he didn't understand just exactly how much Babyface looked like Micky.

"Davy, please just go get a rope or something to tie him up," Mike pled. "I'll explain then." Davy seemed to cave in at the sight of both Mike and Peter wrestling this man and retrieved a rope as Mike and Peter both wrestled to get Babyface's hands behind his back. Davy quickly wrapped the rope around his hands and Mike relaxed a little.

"Babyface Morales?" Davy asked once they were satisfied he was sufficiently tied up. "Isn't he that gangster you guys locked up?"

"Yes," Mike answered as he and Peter both stood up. "Apparently he escaped prison. Again."

"Wow," Davy said kneeling down to the ground to get a good look. "He really does look like Micky. I thought you guys were exaggerating."

"Nope!" Peter said as Davy stood back up and joined Mike and Peter. "He could be Micky's twin."

"Where's Micky?" Mike asked Babyface.

"Like I'll ever tell you that," Babyface sneered. "How did you figure it out?"

"What, figure out you weren't Micky? Cause you aren't. You can't impersonate him. You're terrible at it."

"Not to mention we're smarter than you!" Peter added

"I fooled the short one," he laughed. Mike looked at Davy who seemed confused.

"I have no idea…" Davy said before trailing off. His face lit up as though he'd realized something. Mike could almost see a light bulb turn on above his head. "You! You were impersonating Micky at the diner!"

"What diner?" Peter asked.

"Twice after work Micky came and talked to me," Davy explained. "Or at least I thought it was Micky. He told me he wanted to talk and so we went to a diner to sit and talk. He tried to get me to think bad things about you guys by saying mean things. That's why I took Micky's side so readily. I sort of believed him. But at the same time, I knew there was something wrong, but I couldn't figure it out! I can't believe I fell for it!" Davy looked crestfallen. Mike walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

"It's ok, Davy," Mike said. "You fell for it because you didn't know Babyface looked so much like Micky."

"What kind of bad things?" Peter asked.

"That you guys wanted to leave," Davy answered. "That you wanted to go home to Texas, Mike. And that you thought you could be more successful on your own, Peter."

"I couldn't possibly think that," Peter said.

"I know that," Davy said. "That's why I didn't believe it. Micky said he heard you talking to your Aunt Kate about going home and he said he heard some girl telling Peter he sounded better as a solo and that Peter seemed to like it. I thought Micky was going crazy. But when Mike said that he wanted to go back to Texas…"

"Hey," Mike said cutting him off. "I talked to Aunt Kate about visiting again. I said that I wanted to go home for good out of anger. You know I didn't mean it. I couldn't stand to ditch any of you guys."

"And I didn't like that those girls were telling me I would sound better as a solo," Peter added. "I barely even heard that part. I was excited they liked my music. I don't want to be a solo act. I like being a quartet!"

"I know that now," Davy said. "I just can't believe that I even entertained the idea for even a second."

"That's what he wanted, Davy," Mike said before turning back to Babyface. "Game over, Babyface. You can't play us anymore. Now where's Micky?"

"Game's not over yet, hillbilly," Babyface said.

"Hillbilly!?" Peter exclaimed getting a little angry.

"Calm down, Pete," Mike said. "I've been called worse." He turned back to Babyface again. "What did you think you were going to do, split us up?"

"I am going to make you all suffer," Babyface answered.

"Now how are you gonna do that when you're tied up on our floor?"

"Like I said, the game's not over. You may have stopped me temporarily, but there are other ways to make you suffer."

"I think he was going to get me to steal something," Davy muttered almost to himself.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked.

"Well, the last time he talked to me, he was trying to convince me to go with him on a job of some sort. He said that was the only way we could get money to pay for rent and stuff if you guys left."

"Of course," Mike said. "If you stole something with him, you'd get arrested and suffer the same way Babyface did."

"But I had nothing to do with locking him up!" Davy exclaimed.

"No, but if you got locked up and spent the rest of your life in a jail cell, that would make the rest of us miserable," Peter said. "I think that is what he was going for."

"That was part of it," Babyface sneered. "But I guess now I'll just have to resort to plan B. If I'm not back at a certain time, my boys are on strict orders to shoot your friend right between the eyes. Then you'll suffer the rest of your miserable little lives with the guilt. Knowing you couldn't save him." Mike's blood turned cold.

"What time is that?" Mike asked. Babyface just smiled.

"Where is Micky!?" Davy exclaimed.

"Davy, we tried that," Mike said. "He's not going to talk to us."

"What do we do?" Peter asked terror gripping his voice. "We can't let Micky get shot."

"We aren't going to, Peter," Mike said. His mind began racing. He had to come up with something. He couldn't let Micky die.

"We should call the cops," Davy suggested.

"I don't know that there's much time for that," Mike said. "We call the cops and they cart him off to jail and they waste time with formalities of fingerprinting him, mug shots, and paperwork before interrogating him. Which will be a waste, too. Like I said, he's not going to just talk willingly."

"So what, then?" Peter asked.

"Force it out of him?" Davy asked.

"No, I have an idea," Mike said. He really didn't want any of his friends to get their hands dirty with despicable means like that. "It would have been too risky for him to just kidnap Micky here. So he probably didn't abduct Micky here. Micky probably left at some point while we were gone and he kidnapped Micky then."

"So we start looking wherever Micky went?" Peter asked.

"He could be anywhere!" Davy exclaimed. "We don't have time for that!"

"I think we do," Mike disagreed. "Because I think I know where Micky went. I think he went to Lucy's. Peter, you have her address, right?"

"Yes," Peter said pulling a scrap of paper from his pocket. Mike didn't take his eyes off Babyface. He felt a glimmer of hope as Babyface's eyes narrowed at Mike's train of thought. Clearly he was on the right track.

"So we start there," Mike said.

"What if he isn't there?" Davy asked.

"Then we try and get Lucy to talk. If that doesn't work, then we'll try and force it out of one of them. Davy, you stay here and keep an eye on him. Peter and I will call you when we know something." Davy looked very worried about this plan, but nodded anyway.

"It'll be ok, Davy," Peter said. "We'll find him. We have to." Mike only hoped he was right as he and Peter ran out of the pad and back to the car. Mike jumped in the driver's seat after Peter threw him the keys. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach, but tried to ignore it. They had to find Micky. Alive. There was no other option.


	9. Rescued

Author's Note: Plush Chrome-I have hidden a little treasure in here for you. Hope you like it!

Ponderoso-maybe you should think about getting an account so I can reply to your reviews. They are great and fun to read, but you seem to have some questions sometimes about things that have happened and if you had an account, I could send you a message and explain. For instance, it wasn't "Micky's" refusal to believe Mike that tipped him to the imposter, but rather his attitude and mannerisms. And as far as what Babyface was planning on doing by posing as Micky was simply to try and finish pulling them apart so Davy would go on the heist with him, but since he was discovered, he was forced to resort to plan B. Hope that helps.

Chapter 9: Rescued

Micky had tired himself out struggling against the ropes. He was hungry and sore. It had been hours since Babyface had left; or at least it felt like it had been hours. Micky really had no conception of time down here. His arms were sore from pulling at the ropes, his feet still hurt, his head still hurt and his neck still hurt. Micky hung his head in defeat. There was nothing he could do to help his friends, and it was all his fault. If he had just listened to them, they wouldn't be in any danger right now. If he had just stayed home. But no, he just had to prove his friends wrong. His stubbornness would lead to their downfall. Micky felt a tear fall down his cheek.

What was happening to them? Were they being hurt? Or had they somehow managed to figure out that Babyface was Babyface and not Micky? He hoped that somehow they had been able to figure it out. Even though Babyface was wearing Micky's clothes, Micky was pretty confident he was a very unique person and surely _one_ of his friends would figure it out. But even if they had, would they really come rescue him after the way he had behaved? Of course they would, the little voice that had been so loud earlier echoed in his head. They are your friends and they are good people. They will look past your faults because they love you. There's nothing short of death that would stop them from coming to your rescue. The word pierced Micky's heart. Death. What if they _had_ figured out Babyface was an imposter and he had just simply killed them?

His mind swirled around thoughts like this the entire time he was down here. And he knew that whatever happened to them would be his fault. His friends tried to tell him Lucy was no good, and he didn't listen. The little voice in his head tried to tell him, but again, he didn't listen. Why didn't he listen? He should have known that if Mike thought something, it was probably true. Mike was clear and level-headed; he would never go off on a whim. Micky should have known that. Micky should have known that his friends were only trying to keep him from getting his heart broken. But he'd essentially slapped them all in the face and now here he was heartbroken in a basement tied to a chair wondering if his friends were dead or alive.

He was ripped out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. A moment later the door opened and he watched as Lucy walked down the stairs followed by a large burly man. Lucy was carrying a tray with what appeared to be food on it. She was coming downstairs to feed him. The hunger he'd felt moments earlier fled and was replaced by a feeling of nausea. He wouldn't allow himself to be spoon-fed like a baby. Especially not by her. She looked different to him now that he knew the truth. She radiated no beauty any more. She looked ugly to him now. It was as if she had taken off a mask.

"Are you hungry?" she asked him. Micky didn't respond. Not because he was still gagged, though that had something to do with it, but because he refused to speak to her. Instead he just glared at her. "Take his gag off, please," she said to the burly man who'd followed her. He moved toward Micky and did as she instructed without saying a word. Micky still said nothing to her.

"Don't be disrespectful," the man said after a few moments of silence and smacked Micky on the back of the head. Hard. Micky lurched forward, or at least as far forward as his bonds would let him, and pain shot through his head forcing him to close his eyes.

"Be gentle with him," Lucy said. Her voice still sounded sweet, but Micky could now hear a slight tint of evil behind it. "I know you must be hungry, Micky. You have been down here nearly all day with nothing to eat."

"I'm fine," he said through gritted teeth. He didn't want to speak to her, but he didn't want to get hit again either.

"Don't be stupid, Micky," she said. This time there was nothing sweet about her voice. She brought the tray of food closer to him and Micky saw that the plate had small cut up pieces of chicken and some rice. She picked up the fork and stabbed a piece of chicken before bringing it to his mouth. Micky still refused to be spoon fed, so he turned his head away. The brute standing next to him smacked him again causing pain to rip through Micky's head again.

"Eat!" he barked. Micky glared up at him.

"I said I'm not hungry," Micky said.

"Don't lie, Micky," Lucy reprimanded.

"Oh, you're one to talk?" Micky spat before he could think about it. Once the words left his mouth, he braced himself to get hit again, but instead the brute grabbed him by the back of the hair and pulled so that Micky's head was pulled straight back and he was forced to stare at the ceiling. Not that he could see much, his vision blurred from the pain and he bit back a whimper of agony. The brute looked directly down at him with a very angry expression.

"Don't be smart!" he barked. "I told you to be respectful!"

"Let him go, Robert," Lucy said. The brute let go, but pushed Micky's head forward with such force that Micky felt the back legs of the chair leave the ground temporarily. "Don't make Robert mad, Micky. He has quite the anger problem."

"I can see that," Micky croaked out.

"What are you trying to prove here, Micky? Are you trying to keep your dignity? You're sitting in my basement tied to a chair in your socks and boxers. I think you lost that a long time ago."

"No, I didn't," Micky answered defiantly. She made a really good point, but he would hold on to the little scrap he had left.

"Well, I'm not going to untie you and let you feed yourself."

"Why not? I'm pretty sure that if I tried anything, Robert would snap me in half like a toothpick within a second."

"You'd be right about that, fuzzy," Robert laughed. Micky cringed. He really hated that moniker, but he let it go. It wasn't worth what Robert would do to him.

"Be that as it may, I'm not untying you," Lucy said. "So either go hungry and waste away, or suck it up and eat." Micky glared at her. He'd gone without food before; he could do it again.

"What do you care if I go hungry or not?" he asked. "Wasn't the whole point of this to make me suffer?"

"Yes, but you have to be alive for that to happen. Starving yourself to death takes the fun out of it."

"So sorry," Micky said sarcastically only to get hit in the face this time. He really wasn't sure why he kept poking the bear, but his head hurt so bad he was going to try harder not to do it again.

"What did I say about making him angry?" Lucy laughed. "Are you going to eat or not?"

"I'm not hungry," Micky repeated.

"Enough of this," Robert sighed. He grabbed Micky's hair again in one hand and the bottom of his jaw in the other forcing Micky's mouth open. They were going to force feed him. Now he really had no dignity left. Lucy and Robert both froze when they heard a floorboard creak upstairs.

"Let him go, Robert," Lucy said. "Stay down here with him. I'm going to see what that was." She set the food down on the floor and once again Robert let Micky go. Micky felt like he'd been manhandled by a giant grizzly bear. His vision was blurred again from the pain, but this time it lasted a little longer. Lucy had left the door open, so Micky heard voices drift down. He couldn't really tell what they were saying, but Micky instantly recognized Mike's voice as one of them. He looked at Robert for a second who was staring out the open door. If he yelled, he'd surely get hit again, if not worse, but it would let Mike know he was down here. But that might not be a good thing either. If Robert could snap Micky like a twig, surely he'd do the same to Mike. But then he heard Peter's voice, too and he realized there could be strength in numbers. Micky tensed awaiting the assault he knew was about to come before shouting.

"Mike! Peter! Help! Down-" Micky was cut off as Robert hit Micky in the face so hard, Micky fell backward. The chair cracked a little and Micky felt the wood scrape his back as he hit the ground. He let out a gasp of pain, but was still able to hear a scuffle in the room above him. They'd heard him and were fighting Lucy now. Hopefully the two of them were able to overcome her quickly. He needed it because Robert kicked Micky in the stomach. All the air left his lungs and he couldn't breathe. His vision went black for a few seconds. When it returned, he saw Robert running up the stairs. Micky's stomach flipped as he realized that he was going to help Lucy. He couldn't let that happen. He struggled around in the chair to try and yelled at his friends.

"Big ugly brute coming up the stairs!" he shouted, hoping they would hear him and be warned so they could do something. Robert stopped his ascent temporarily and turned to growl at Micky.

"Shut up, you!" he snarled. He turned back towards the stairs and continued his ascent. He didn't get very far however and he soon came tumbling down the stairs head over heels. He landed at the base of the stairs and Micky looked at the top of the stairs to see what had caused him to fall. Mike stood there with a long piece of wood that looked like it had been broken off from a table leg. Micky assumed Mike must have hit him with it. Just as Mike started down the stairs, Robert started pushing himself up groaning in pain.

"Mike!" Micky warned. Mike saw this, dropped the broken table leg and leapt over the railing of the stairs as Robert made a mad dash towards him. His weight was a disadvantage and he fell forward smacking his chin against the stairs. He yelled in pain again just as Peter appeared in the doorway at the top of the stairs.

"She's out cold!" Peter called down to Mike.

"Thanks, can I get some help down here?" Mike answered as Robert ran back down the stairs trying to get Mike. Mike dodged Robert's rather large arms once again, but this time he'd only barely escaped. Peter ran down the stairs and joined Mike in the basement. This now gave Robert two people to chase and he paused for a moment as though trying to figure out which one to chase. He decided to go after Peter since Peter was now closer to him at the base of the stairs. Peter jumped out of the way, missing Robert's fist by inches. Robert's large size was making his movements a little slow and cumbersome, which was beneficial for Peter and Mike who were smaller and much more agile.

Micky continued to struggle against the bonds holding him to the chair, but with the chair only broke along the crack that had already been made. A small, but sharp piece of wood cut into his back and any further movements he made drove the piece of wood further into his back, so he decided to sit still. Mike looked around the basement for a moment and saw the furnace. He ran over to it and ripped open the heavy metal door before he stood in front of it. Micky briefly wondered what he was doing, but figured it out when Mike yelled at Robert trying to get his attention.

"Hey, ugly!" Mike yelled. "Yeah, you, warthog faced buffoon!" Robert stopped and stared at Mike as though trying to figure out what he was up to. "Yeesh! Now there's a face not even a mother could love!" Robert flashed red with anger and charged at Mike. At the very last moment, Mike jumped out of the way landing on his stomach on the ground. Robert smacked head first into the furnace door that had been obscured moments before by Mike's body in front of it. He collapsed to the ground completely unconscious.

"Way to go, Mike!" Peter said running over to help Mike off the ground. Once Mike was standing again they dashed over to Micky. Mike immediately knelt down to try and untie him while Peter knelt down to hug him. Pain seared through his back as the wood from the chair pierced further.

"Ow!" Micky exclaimed. "Peter get off!" Peter let go looking really confused and Mike stopped untying him.

"What did I do?" Peter asked nervously.

"Peter, help me," Mike said. Peter nodded and moved over to kneel on the ground next to Mike. "The chair is broken and stabbing him in the back. It's not that deep, but I need you to hold this really tightly so it doesn't go in deeper. I need to break the other end off so it won't continue hurting him. Micky, this might hurt. Try to hold still."

"Just get me out of here please!" Micky answered. Mike counted to three and Micky felt Peter grip the end poking him in the back. Once Mike hit three, he snapped the splintered wood off the chair and Micky felt a slight poke, but Peter did a good job of keeping it still so the pain wasn't that bad. Once he was free of the splinter, Mike finished untying him.

"The splinter didn't go in deep at all," Mike said helping Micky to his feet. "How do you feel otherwise?"

"Sore," Micky said. "Guys, I'm so sorry. You were right. I should have listened to you. I-" he was cut off by Peter hugging him again. He was really sore from the beating he'd taken, but welcomed the hug this time. Mike joined him, and Micky had to brace himself better to avoid falling over.

"It's ok, Mick," Mike said. "We're just glad you're ok. Babyface Morales broke out of jail and-"

"I know," Micky said as they both pulled away. "He sort of strangled me and tied me up down here." Micky rubbed his throat which was also still sore.

"He said he was gonna kill you," Peter said.

"How did you guys figure out it wasn't me?" Micky asked.

"Are you kidding?" Mike laughed. "No one can imitate you! Let's get home. I think there are some clothes out in the car."

"I'll grab them," Peter said and ran off up the stairs.

"I really am sorry, Mike," Micky said as he moved to follow Peter. He stumbled a little and Mike grabbed his arm to keep him from falling.

"Easy, buddy," Mike said. "You ok?"

"My head hurts a lot," Micky said. "Kinda making me light-headed I guess. That big brute over there has a short temper and likes to hit. Really hard."

"Alright, slow movements then, shotgun," Mike said leading Micky up the stairs.

"What happened to Babyface?" Micky asked

"He's tied up on our floor," Mike answered. "Davy's watching him to make sure he doesn't escape. Once I figured out he wasn't you, I tackled him to the ground and we tied him up."

"Did you call the cops?"

"Not yet. He said he'd ordered his men to kill you. We wanted to find you first. Figured the cops would only waste time."

"Thanks." They'd made their way upstairs and Micky saw Lucy lying on the ground. She looked like she was sleeping and Micky's stomach churned again at the sight of her. Peter ran back in with a set of clothes for Micky. Mike helped steady him as he pulled them on.

"I couldn't find any shoes, sorry," Peter said.

"That's ok, Peter, just so long as I don't have to go outside in my boxers." Mike helped him the rest of the way out to the car and tossed the keys to Peter.

"You drive, Pete," Mike said. "I wanna get a look at Micky's injuries."

"I'm not that bad," Micky said as he slid into the car. Mike slid into the seat next to him. Peter started the car while Mike looked at Micky.

"You're neck looks ok," he said lifting Micky's chin a little. "Just a little bruising. Probably have a black eye in the morning, too. Let me see your back." Micky turned so Mike could look at his back. "This doesn't look that bad either. We'll clean it when we get home and put a bandage on it." It didn't take them long before they pulled back in front of the pad. Mike helped Micky out of the car even though Micky was feeling better and moving faster. Once they were all inside, Micky became confused. Neither Davy nor Babyface were anywhere to be seen. Peter saw Davy before Mike or Micky did and let out a strangled cry.

"Davy!" he exclaimed and ran over to the stage area. Finally Mike and Micky saw Davy lying on the ground in a crumpled heap behind Micky's drum set.

"No!" Mike shouted as he dashed over to Davy as well.


	10. Outnumbered

Author's Note: Ponderoso- no, my homework isn't suffering. I work the third shift as security at a gated community, so I sit on my butt all night waiting for a car to pull in…..pretty boring, so I have plenty of time for homework and fics. I even play games on facebook and watch monkees episodes. :D

Chapter 10: Outnumbered

"No!" Mike's stomach fell to the floor when he saw Davy. He rushed over to the stage area and knelt down next to Peter. He looked Davy over quickly, but saw no visible injuries.

"Davy, wake up!" Peter pled. Micky knelt down next to them having made it over a little slower due to his own injuries.

"This is all my fault," he cried. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's not your fault, Micky," Mike said trying not to start crying himself. Peter was near tears and Micky was already crying. He had to stay strong for them. "I think he's just knocked out. I don't see any injuries."

"We should get him to the doctor," Peter said sounding very choked. Mike nodded his agreement and moved to try and carry Davy to the car. He froze when he heard the distinct sound of a gun cocking behind him. Peter yelped, and Micky just stared at a spot behind Mike. In all his panic, he'd forgotten about Babyface. Sure enough when Mike turned around he saw Babyface standing there pointing a gun at them. He must have been hiding somewhere for their return; Mike was sure he hadn't been there a moment ago.

"Hands up," Babyface ordered. Mike, Peter and Micky all slowly put their hands in the air. "Good boys. Dolenz, sit over there." Babyface waved his gun at a chair in the middle of the room. Micky looked at Mike for a second, but did as Babyface instructed. Mike stared at the grin on Babyface's face and didn't like where this was going. He couldn't let anyone else get hurt. It was three against one. One gangster with a gun, but if Mike could disarm him, it would be easier to take him. He'd done it once before. Granted Babyface wasn't pointing a gun at him before, but still.

"You, tie him up," Babyface barked at Peter.

"I-I don't want to," Peter answered standing up.

"I wasn't asking," Babyface spat back.

"Peter, just do it," Mike said.

"Mike, I-" Peter stammered. Mike stood up and turned to face Peter. An idea was forming in his head, but he needed Babyface's attention drawn elsewhere temporarily.

"Peter, listen to me," Mike said. "It'll be alright. Just do what he says." He tried to silently tell Peter he had a plan. Peter seemed to pick up on it and he nodded, and then moved over to Micky. Babyface threw a rope at Peter, but because he was so nervous, he dropped it. This was a good thing for Mike. He carefully moved to pull one of Micky's cymbals off the stand, which was hard to do and keep them quiet. But he managed to do it. Then he carefully took aim while Peter fumbled over the rope trying to straighten it out. He had to do this before Micky was restrained again. It shouldn't be that hard; it was just like Frisbee. He threw the cymbal across the room towards Babyface who was standing directly in front of Micky and Peter and not paying attention to Mike. Luckily his aim was true and the cymbal made contact with Babyface's hand, knocking the gun from it and causing it to skitter across the floor.

Peter and Micky didn't miss a beat. They leapt forward tackling Babyface to the ground and Mike ran across the room to help. Micky's injuries were making it difficult for him to restrain Babyface, but with Peter's help they appeared to be winning. Unfortunately, this only lasted a few seconds. Babyface kicked and his foot made contact with the injury on Micky's back. Micky cried out in pain, which made Peter loosen his grip just enough for Babyface to pull away from him. Peter tried to regain the advantage, but Babyface punched him knocking him to the floor before Mike could reach them. Babyface spun around quickly. Mike realized he was looking for his gun. They both spotted it at the same time and dove for it.

Micky had reached up and grabbed Babyface's ankle causing him to trip and allowing Mike to reach the gun first. Babyface kicked Micky again, this time landing a blow to his face. Micky cried out in pain again and was forced to let go just as Mike wrapped his hands around the gun. Babyface was on him in an instant and the two fell to the ground. Mike tried to keep hold of the gun, but couldn't. Once again, it fell to the ground and skittered. Peter made a dash for it this time and Mike tried to keep Babyface on the ground so Peter could get to it. Babyface got an arm free and landed a punch to Mike's jaw. Pain erupted in his face, but Mike tried to ignore it. Babyface was able to wriggle away from Mike and rush toward Peter who now had the gun.

Babyface froze in his tracks when he realized Peter had the gun pointed directly at him. A smile erupted on his face. Mike pushed himself up and began to walk over to Peter, wondering why Babyface was smiling like that. You wouldn't think someone would be smiling that wide when a gun was pointed directly at them. Micky was recovering too now and he slowly pushed himself up, but was gripping his head in pain. Over by the stage, Mike heard Davy let out a moan. He was coming to. Micky must have heard it too, because he ran over to where Davy was lying. He carefully held Davy in his arms protectively.

"Now, Peter," Babyface sneered. "What are you going to do with that? Shoot me?"

"Peter," Mike said finally realizing why Babyface was smiling. They both knew Peter didn't have it in him. "Give me the gun." Peter was frozen in fear. Except his hands holding the gun. They were trembling so severely that Mike was afraid he'd accidently shoot.

"Don't be stupid, Peter," Babyface said. "You give him the gun and he's going to shoot me."

"There's a problem with that?" Mike quipped.

"Peter is a pacifist. He'd be crushed if you did that, Mike."

"He'll get over it," Mike snapped before turning to Peter. He placed one hand on Peter's shoulder and another over Peter's hands gripping the gun so tightly. "Peter, I'm not going to shoot him unless I need to. You know that. Give me the gun, ok?" Babyface let out a low growl as Peter slowly lowered the gun.

"Peter, don't listen to him," Babyface snarled. "Of course he's going to kill me. I knocked your friend unconscious, didn't I? Hit him with a frying pan when he was trying to run away. And I nearly killed Micky."

"What are you trying to do, get _him_ to shoot you?" Mike asked angrily. Mike heard Davy groan again and mumble something. He was awake now. Micky still held him protectively, but when he looked up, his eyes went wide with fear.

"Behind you!" he yelled. Mike and Peter whirled around. Just in time, Mike saw the glint of a blade lunging towards him held by Mr. Vidic. He jumped out of the way and was forced to let go of the gun. He heard it clatter to the ground again as Peter dodged the other way and let it slip from his hand. Mike tried to reach for the gun, but Mr. Vidic lunged at him with the very sharp looking knife again forcing Mike to retreat. He could only watch as Babyface shoved Peter out of the way and grabbed the gun again.

"Thank you, Vidic," Babyface said training the gun on Mike who had now been backed into the corner by the knife wielding maniac.

"Now what are you going to do with that?" Mike asked his voice slightly cracking.

"Let's see," Babyface laughed. "You keep getting in my way. You figured out who I really was and with that little stunt you just pulled…well I don't think I can afford any more of your little interferences."

"No, please don't hurt him!" Micky pled. "This is my fault! I am the one who impersonated you! Please!"

"Shut up, Dolenz!" Before he could react, Mike heard the gunshot and closed his eyes expecting to feel pain any second. But nothing happened. He snapped his eyes open when he heard Babyface curse and Micky and Davy, who was now fully awake but struggling to sit up, scream.

"Peter!" Micky yelled. Peter lay on the ground in between Mike and Babyface, blood pooling slowly underneath him. Micky left Davy's side to rush to Peter. Davy just sat there with a look of pure horror on his face. Mr. Vidic had lowered the knife, also clearly shocked, so Mike pushed past him to join Micky at Peter's side. Mike felt himself start to cry as he realized what had happened. At the last second Peter had jumped in front of the gun. A truly heroic and selfless act, but Mike couldn't help but think it was also a completely and utterly stupid thing to do. Even though he probably would have done the same thing.

"Peter, what did you do!?" Mike asked. Even though he knew the answer. Peter looked up at him with pain in his eyes. Blood was staining his shirt on his shoulder. At least the bullet hadn't hit his lungs or heart. There was hope for him. Micky quickly ripped off his shirt, wadded it into a ball and pushed it into the wound on Peter's shoulder. Peter gasped in pain, but Micky didn't let up. Mike glared up at Babyface who was smiling again.

"Well this isn't quite what I wanted, but it'll do," he laughed. Rage and hatred unlike anything Mike had ever felt raced through his veins. Now he wasn't sure if he _would_ shoot Babyface given the opportunity. Mike's mind raced. He tried to push the thought that all three of his best friends were hurt now away so he could think clearly. He was the only one left standing, so to speak. Whatever would happen would have to be up to him now. But what? He was insanely outnumbered. A man with a knife and another with a gun versus him. By himself. No weapon whatsoever. He felt defeated. He couldn't think of anything that wouldn't get himself hurt or killed. And if he got hurt, that left no one to defend his friends.

"Come on, Peter," Micky said softly through his own tears. "Hang on. It's going to be ok. I'm so sorry. I messed everything up. None of this would be-"

"Micky, stop rambling," Peter croaked out. He sounded like he was in so much pain. "And if you say this is your fault one more time, I'll kick you myself." Micky laughed through his tears. Mike smiled. He felt a small sense of hope fill him again. He looked to the stage area, but didn't see Davy. He finally saw him creeping up behind Babyface with a rather heavy pot in his hands. Mike realized what he was trying to do, but knew that there was a very large chance that Mr. Vidic would see him and warn Babyface. So Mike did the only thing he could think of, not really caring what happened to him anymore. This was their last ditch effort and it had to work.

Mike jumped up and whirled on Mr. Vidic. He was surprised by Mike's sudden movement, so he didn't raise the knife. Mike grabbed the wrist holding the knife in one hand and threw the hardest punch he could muster with the other. It connected with Mr. Vidic's nose and Mike saw blood come out of his nose as he shrieked in pain. He let go of the knife and it dropped to the ground. Behind him he heard Babyface recover from being startled himself and cock the gun again. Mike turned to see the gun was once again aimed at him, but Davy was at that very second swinging the pot with all his might. It connected with Babyface's head at the same time the gun went off again. Mike dove to the ground expecting this and heard the bullet whiz just over his head. Between Davy throwing off his aim and Mike hitting the deck, the bullet just barely missed him. Babyface hit the ground with a loud thud.

"That's for hitting me in the head!" Davy exclaimed to the unconscious gangster at his feet. Davy hit him with the pan again. "And that's for shooting Peter!" Mike ignored the still moaning Mr. Vidic and rushed over Davy to take the pan away from him before he did any more damage. As angry as he was, it wasn't worth it for them to become killers.

"Davy, calm down and call the police and an ambulance," Mike said ripping the pan out of Davy's trembling hands. He bent down and grabbed the gun, just in case, before returning to deal with Mr. Vidic who now seemed to recover slightly and was trying to reach for the knife. Mike simply waved the gun at him. "If you know what's good for you, I'd back away from that," Mike said to him. Mr. Vidic froze. "Good boy. Now, sit down and be a good evil henchman while we wait for the cops to arrest you." Davy returned a moment later and proceeded to tie up Mr. Vidic who had done exactly as Mike instructed and sat in a nearby chair. Once Mike was satisfied that the immediate danger had passed, he tucked the gun in his waistband and knelt down next to Peter.

"How you doing, buddy?" he asked him. He could already see a small sheen of sweat forming on his friends face.

"Better now," Peter answered. Davy joined them next to Mike. Micky was still pushing his shirt into Peter's shoulder trying to stop the blood. For the moment it seemed to be working. But Peter's eyes revealed the amount of pain he was in.

"Hang on just a little longer," Davy said. "There's an ambulance on its way with the cops and they're gonna get you all fixed up, ok?"

"What about you, Davy?" Mike asked turning to him. His eyes looked a little red, but that was probably more from fighting back tears.

"I'm fine," he answered. "I'll probably have a huge headache tomorrow. I don't know what happened. One minute I'm sitting there waiting for you guys to come back, and the next he's chasing me. I don't even know how he got free."

"I think I know," Micky said. His words still sounded choked, but there was a bit more confidence to them. He jerked his head over to something shiny under the couch. Mike saw a tiny razor blade under it.

"He cut himself free," Mike said.

"Micky, are you ok?" Davy asked.

"I'll be fine," Micky answered somewhat unconvincingly. "Just a few bumps and scrapes."

"You realize you all are going to be seen by the doctor, right?" Mike asked.

"I'm fine," Davy argued.

"I really don't care if you _think_ you're fine," Mike said with a smile.

"I'm with Mike," Micky answered. "Like I should have been this whole time."

"Micky, what did Peter say about saying stuff like that?"

"He just said not to say it was my fault."

"And that was a round-about way of saying the same thing. Micky, this isn't your fault. We all played a part in this twisted little game of his. But in the end it was his game. He did this to us."

"But if I hadn't left-"

"Stop it!" Peter moaned.

"Peter's right," Mike said. "If you hadn't left, he would have found another way to hurt us. And who knows, things may have turned out much worse for us." Micky opened his mouth to argue again, but Peter reached up with his good arm and smacked him on the shoulder. It was very lightly, but it made a point. Micky stopped talking and they all laughed. Until Peter winced in pain.

"Ok, no laughing, Pete," Davy said.

"No sudden movements at all, ok?" Micky said. Peter nodded. Within minutes Mike heard the wail of police and ambulance sirens and finally relaxed a little. It was finally over. They just had to get Peter, Micky, and Davy to the hospital and then everything would be ok. Everything would be back to normal. Well, "Monkees normal" anyway.


	11. Healing

Author's Note: Not done yet. One more chapter after this one. Then I have an idea for an epic fic of sorts.

Chapter 11: Healing

Micky stayed by Peter's side as Mike led the police and paramedics through the door. The police went straight for Babyface and his accomplice Mr. Vidic. The paramedics immediately averted their attention to Peter. One of them knelt next to Micky. He really didn't want to let go of Peter. As creepy as it sounded, the feeling of Peter's pulse under the shirt was the one thing keeping him together. As long as he felt Peter's pulse, he knew he was alive and that was enough for Micky. Mike had to literally pull him off Peter to let the medics tend to him. Once he'd let go, he nearly crumpled. Davy and Mike supported him. As much as they'd berated him for feeling guilty, he still did. His knees weakened seeing the look of pain on Peter's face.

"Come on, Micky," Mike said wrapping his arms around Micky offering more than just physical support. "Let's get in the car so we can follow them to the hospital." Micky nodded and let Mike lead him out to the car. Nobody spoke the whole drive to the hospital. When they pulled up, Micky had regained some of his composure, so they all ran into the hospital and to the front desk. Micky winced in pain as he realized that he was ignoring his own injuries. His whole body hurt and he still felt light-headed. Mike spoke to the woman behind the desk.

"Our friend was brought in here a few moments ago," he said.

"What's his name?" she asked.

"Peter Tork," Mike answered. "He was shot in the shoulder."

"Yes, they took him back to surgery," she answered Mike before looking at Micky. "You look like you were injured as well."

"He was," Mike answered for him. "Davy here was hit on the head and knocked out. They both need to be seen, too."

"Mike, I told you I was fine," Davy muttered.

"Sorry, Davy," Micky said putting his hand on Davy's shoulder as if to stop him from escaping, "but unless you want me whining about how it was my fault you got hit on the head for the rest of your life, you're coming with me to get checked out."

"They're preparing a recovery room for your friend," the nurse said. "I can take you all there so you can wait for him and have a doctor look at your injuries as well. I'm sure the police will also want to speak with you, too."

"Thank you," Mike said. The three of them followed her, Davy mumbling the whole way about Micky guilt-tripping him. Halfway down the hallway, however, Micky had to stop. His back was still in pain and he could feel sharp jabs with every step. Mike had been walking behind him and stopped to look nervously at him as he leaned against the wall.

"I'm fine," Micky breathed feeling a little short of breath. "Sort of. I just can't walk that fast." The nurse also stopped and looked at him.

"Maybe we should get you a wheelchair," Mike said.

"I'm fine," Micky said. "Just give me a minute."

"You look like you're about to faint," Davy countered.

"Wait here," the nurse said before scurrying off. Micky felt a fresh wave of dizziness pass over him and his knees went weak again. He would have fallen on the ground had Mike not been right there to catch him. Davy looked around nervously looking for the nurse.

"Ok, yeah, definitely a wheelchair for you," Mike said. Finally the nurse came back with a wheelchair and Mike lowered him into it. The room wasn't much farther, so it only took them another few minutes to get there. Once they did, an orderly was just leaving.

"I just finished up in there, Ma'am," he said wheeling a cart full of dirty linens out.

"Good, thank you," she said before he walked away. "You please sit on the bed," she instructed Davy. "And you can stay there until the doctor gets here. Should be only a minute or two."

"Really, guys, I feel fine," Davy said as the nurse left. "I'm more concerned for Micky and Peter."

"As am I, but it wouldn't hurt to have him look at you," Mike said. "That pot was one our heaviest pots. You could have some brain swelling in there."

"I'm fine, really. I've fallen off horses several times. I have a rather hard head."

"I'll say," Mike deadpanned which caused Davy to shoot him a dirty look. Micky laughed a little, but winced when a shooting pain went through his head.

"I think maybe I'm the one with the swollen brain," Micky groaned as he rubbed his head.

"You have a brain?" Davy joked.

"Since when?" Mike added.

"Very funny, guys," Micky said, even though he was actually laughing a little. At that moment the doctor walked in.

"Good evening, gentleman," he said. "My name is Dr. Hastings."

"How's Peter?" Davy asked.

"Davy, he's not going to know anything yet," Mike reprimanded.

"That's alright," Dr. Hastings said. "I understand your concern for your friend. I don't know his condition yet, but I have seen hundreds of shooting victims in my career here. The fact that he came in awake and aware is a good sign. From what I understand, first appearances are that the bullet missed all vital organs, which is another plus. I have the utmost confidence your friend will make a full recovery. He's being tended to by the best surgeon this hospital has."

"Thank you," Mike said.

"Shall we see how you boys are doing in the interim? Can I start with your names and injuries?"

"This is Davy Jones," Mike answered. "He was hit over the head with a heavy pot. We found him passed out on the floor."

"Let's take a look, then. Mr. Jones, where did the pot hit you?"

"Right here," Davy said indicating a spot on the back of his head. "It didn't hit me that hard. He kind of threw it at me more than anything else. I tried to dodge it, but I guess it still nicked me."

"There doesn't appear to be that much damage," Dr. Hastings said examining the spot on his head. "Just a little bruising. Do you have a headache?"

"A little," Davy answered. The doctor asked a few more questions to Davy and Mike while doing a few more examinations that gauged Davy's reactions, but Micky found himself zoning out and not paying attention. His head was throbbing. And he felt like he might be a little sick.

"Ok, look straight ahead for me," Dr. Hastings said as he shone a very bright light in Davy's eyes. Micky really hoped the doctor didn't have to do that to him. The lights in the room alone were enough to make his head pound. "Normal pupil reactions. I don't think there's anything other than a concussion here. I'll give you some pain killers and if your symptoms get any worse, come back, ok?"

"Sure," Davy said as he hopped down from the bed.

"Who's next?" the doctor said looking at Mike. "What's your name?"

"I'm Mike Nesmith and I'm fine," Mike said. "Took a punch, but I've had worse. This is Micky Dolenz. He took a pretty bad beating from a really big guy. And he had a chair stab him."

"A chair stabbed him?" Davy asked confused.

"Yeah, the chair he was tied to broke and the splintered wood pierced him in the back," Mike said as he moved to help Micky to the bed.

"Let's take a look," Dr. Hastings said.

"Can you not shine that light in my eyes though?" Micky asked. "My head already hurts from the lights in here."

"I'm sorry, but I will have to see your pupil response. How do you feel otherwise?"

"A little sick, to be honest. And in a lot of pain."

"He's really weak," Mike said. "He almost collapsed on the floor out in the hallway."

"Mr. Dolenz, I'm going to say three words and I need you to listen to them carefully, ok?"

"Sure," Micky answered unsure why he was doing that.

"Ok, the words are 'pen', 'ball', and 'hat'. Got it?"

"Yes."

"Alright, did you pass out at all?"

"No, but I came close. My vision went all fuzzy a few times."

"No seizing?"

"No."

"Have any of you noticed any slurred speech?"

"No," Mike answered.

"Mr. Dolenz, do you have any numbness?"

"No," Micky answered.

"Push on my hands." Micky tried, but couldn't push very hard. The doctor then shone the bright light in his eyes with an apology explaining it had to be done. Micky jerked away as soon as he did it because pain shot through his head. It was like someone was stabbing him directly in the brain. He tried to stay still for the second eye, but couldn't. He gasped in pain and clutched his head. "Alright, there is some muscle weakness, but not much. There's also a delayed reaction in the pupils. Let's take a look at your back now." Dr. Hastings moved to look at his back. "This doesn't look that deep. We'll get it cleaned up and put a bandage over it. Alright, Mr. Dolenz, what were those three words I said earlier?"

"Pen, um…bat…" Micky trailed off. He couldn't remember the last word. He didn't know why; the doctor had only said it a few minutes ago.

"Actually, the word was 'ball'," Mike said after a few minutes.

"And the last word was 'hat'," Davy added.

"What does that mean?" Mike asked worry dripping from his voice.

"It means his cognition is impaired affecting his memory," Dr. Hastings answered.

"That sounds bad," Davy said sounding terrified.

"It's not that bad," Dr. Hastings answered. "It does mean there is some brain swelling, but it doesn't look that bad. I can give him some medication to reduce the swelling. With rest and the medication, the swelling should go down and he'll make a full recovery."

"Thank you," Mike said breathing a sigh of relief.

"I'll have the nurse start the medication immediately and bring in another bed for when your other friend is out of surgery. The police are also waiting to speak with you if you're ready."

"I'll talk to them outside," Mike said squeezing Micky's shoulder a little as a way of saying he was there for him. "Micky needs to rest like you said, and talking to the cops is only going to stress him out." The doctor nodded and they both left the room. Micky sighed and lay down on the bed. He winced a little as he felt pressure on the wound on his back so he rolled onto his side. Davy walked over to him and looked anxiously at him.

"You heard the doc," Micky said. "I'll be fine." A moment later the nurse came in and began hooking Micky up to a machine that took his blood pressure and heart rate. Then she moved to insert a needle in his arm which caused Micky to jerk away.

"It will only hurt for a minute, but I need to give you the medication," she said.

"Micky, please let her do this," Davy pled and placed his hand over Micky's. Micky closed his eyes and relaxed his arm so the nurse could start the IV.

"Ok, here we go," she said. "Slight poke in just a second." He felt the needle poke his arm and he jerked. Davy gripped his hand tightly, but the pain immediately started to fade. The nurse then starting hooking him up to an IV and then took another needle and injected something into the IV as well.

"What is that?" Davy asked.

"It's a hypertonic saline," she answered. "It'll help reduce the brain swelling. I've also given him a strong pain killer." Davy nodded and the nurse then moved to start cleaning the wound on his back. She had to push him over a little more to get at it better. He felt a slight burning when she cleaned it and he tensed again. Once again, Davy squeezed his hands around Micky's hand.

"It's ok, Micky," he said. "Just squeeze my hand." The pain went away quickly again and she put a gauze pad on the wound and then wrapped it in a dressing.

"You're all set, Mr. Dolenz," the nurse said packing up her supplies and cleaning the trash from the bandages. "Your pain should start to go away from the medications soon. If you need anything else, just let me know. There are blankets in that cupboard. He's probably going to start getting cold soon."

"Thanks," Davy said. "We will." Micky rolled back over on his back and closed his eyes for a moment. Davy didn't wait for Micky to get cold. He just grabbed a blanket and draped it over Micky carefully tucking his feet under it and then pulled a chair over so he could sit on Micky's left side and keep an eye on him. It suddenly struck him how lucky he was to have friends like this. After a few minutes Mike came back inside the room.

"How's he doing?" Mike asked sitting in a chair on the other side of Micky.

"I'm fine," Micky said. He could already feel the pain killers start to work. The pain in his head was getting better as well as the rest of his body.

"The nurse gave him some sort of saline solution or something that she said would help reduce the swelling and some pain killers," Davy said. "And his back is all bandaged and clean now."

"That's good," Mike said. "Are the pain killers working yet?"

"Yes," Micky answered. "I feel fine for the first time all day." Mike smiled.

"Glad to hear it, buddy."

"What did the cops say?" Davy asked.

"They didn't really say much," Mike answered with a sigh. "They mostly just wanted to hear what happened. I told them everything and they had me sign something. They said they'd been looking for Babyface for a while, but didn't want to release anything to the media for fear of scaring people."

"You must be joking!" Davy said. "They should have at least told us!"

"Yeah, they realize that in hindsight. But they're going to head over to Lucy's and arrest her. Assuming she's still there, anyway."

"Good," Micky said. "She deserves to go to jail." He was met with silence for a few moments.

"Micky, I'm really sorry about her," Mike said. "I want you to know that I didn't want to be right about her."

"Of course I know that, Mike," Micky answered. "But the fact is that you were. Why I didn't listen to you, I have no idea. But it won't happen again."

"Hopefully it won't have to come to that ever again," Mike said. They spent the next several hours talking about random things. Micky didn't contribute much as he was starting to feel really tired from the medication and just wanted to close his eyes and sleep, but the doctor had come back in to check on them and had instructed them not to let Micky sleep just yet. He had told them he'd be back in a few hours to re-check Micky's cognition. The nurse had also come in and given Davy a few aspirin's for his own headache. Mike and Davy both stood up when he finally did come back in. Despite the doctors assurances that Micky and Peter would both make a full recovery, Micky could tell they were both extremely nervous.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Dolenz?" Doctor Hastings asked with a smile.

"Much better," Micky answered. "Really tired though."

"Yeah, the medicine can do that. I'm sorry. I'll let you go to sleep once I determine you're improving. I'm going to run you through those tests again, ok?"

"Sure," Micky said pushing himself up so that he was sitting once again.

"Ok, I'm going to say three words again. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"The words are 'ball', 'cup', and 'hat'. Got that?"

"Yes."

"Ok, how is the headache?"

"Better."

"And the nausea?"

"Gone."

"Ok, let's test some reflexes." The doctor hit his knees with the little rubber hammer and his legs kicked perfectly. Then he shone the bright light in Micky's eyes. It hurt a little, but Micky forced himself not to flinch away because it wasn't nearly painful as it was before.

"He didn't flinch away this time," Davy said. "That's good, right?"

"Yes, he is making improvements. The pupils are reacting better. Not perfectly yet, but I expect them to within a few days. Mr. Dolenz, push on my hands again." Micky pushed and though he was still a little weak, he did better. "You also appear to have some muscle strength back. Now do you remember what those words were?"

"Ball, cup, and…" Micky couldn't think of the last word that readily. It took him several seconds before he finally remembered it. "Hat!" He heard Mike and Davy both exhale deeply as though they'd been holding their breath.

"That's definitely good," Mike said with a smile.

"Yes. He is definitely improving. I expect reflexes to return to normal within a few days and cognition to return within a few weeks. I'll test you again in the morning. In the meantime, get some sleep. I checked on your friend for you as well. They are closing him up right now. They successfully removed the bullet and he should make a full recovery. He'll be joining you within an hour."

"Thank you so much," Mike said. Micky could see relief wash over his face just as relief was washing through his own body. Davy smiled and closed his eyes in relief as well.

"If it's ok, doc, I'd rather stay awake until he gets here," Micky said.

"You can if you want, but he's under a rather strong anesthesia," Doctor Hastings answered. "He won't even be awake for a few hours himself. Probably won't wake up till morning. He needs the sleep to recover."

"Even so, I'd still rather be awake when he gets here."

"Understood. But you need to sleep after that. Are you boys staying as well?"

"Yes," Mike and Davy answered in unison.

"We aren't leaving," Mike said.

"I expected as much," Doctor Hastings said with a smile. "I'll have the nurse bring in a few cots. It will be tight, but that way you boys can sleep as well without hurting your backs in those uncomfortable chairs."

"Thank you," Davy said. Mike and Davy both sat back down in their seats once the doctor left and there was a few moments of silence between them.

"Peter's gonna be ok," Davy said.

"I just can't believe he did that," Mike said. For the first time he looked a little broken. Micky understood what was going on with his friend. Peter had gotten shot trying to save him. He'd jumped in front of a bullet meant for Mike. And Mike thought he had to stay strong for all of them despite the fact he'd nearly died. Micky reached out and squeezed Mike's hand.

"It's ok, Mike," Micky said. "You don't have to hold it in anymore. If you bottle up your emotions like that, you're going to explode one day. Neither of us will think any less of you for showing emotions. They aren't a sign of weakness. They're a sign of humanity." Mike smiled and for the first time shed a tear.

"Thank you, Micky," Mike said.


	12. Recovery

Author's Note: Long chapter, but I wanted to add this fun little "scene". If its corny, I apologize. It sounded so much better in my head. :D

Chapter 12: Recovery

The next morning, Micky felt a lot better. There was still pain in his head, but it had almost completely subsided. He guessed part of that was because of the pain medication. The nurse had come in during the night to give him a few more doses. Mike and Davy had slept fairly well considering everything that had happened. Micky wasn't surprised; they had been through a lot and were exhausted by the time everything had calmed down.

Peter had been brought back from surgery only an hour after the doctor had finished evaluating Micky. Like the doctor had told them, Peter was asleep. He had an IV placed in his arm already and he had a large bandage on his shoulder. His skin was a paler shade than it normally was, but the nurses told him that the color would soon return once he replenished some of the blood he'd lost. For a while the three friends just watched Peter. Mike had walked over to him and brushed some hair away from his face.

Now that it was morning, Micky felt well rested. Mike was already awake, but Davy was still sleeping on his cot. Peter was still sleeping as well. He definitely had more color and he looked perfectly at peace, almost as if nothing was wrong and he was just sound asleep in his own bed at home. But he wasn't. Both Micky and Peter still had an IV hooked to their arms as well as a machine to check their heartbeats and blood pressures.

"Hey," Mike said quietly so as not to wake up Davy when he noticed Micky was awake. "How do you feel?"

"A lot better, actually," Micky answered.

"Good," Mike answered.

"How long have you been awake?"

"About an hour."

"Any change in Peter?"

"Not really. He looks a lot healthier though. But he hasn't woken up." There was a soft knock on the door and Mike crossed to open the door for a nurse.

"Good morning, gentleman," she said. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Mike answered sitting on the cot they had provided for him in between Micky and Peter. Davy was still sound asleep on the other side of Micky.

"I'm feeling a lot better," Micky said.

"That's good," the nurse answered. "I'll give you another dose of pain killers just in case. I'll also need to change your bandage as well as your friends."

"Sure," Micky answered rolling over so the nurse could get to the bandage on his back. She was able to change his bandage rather quickly and put another dose of pain medication in his IV before moving on to Peter. When she took off his bandage, Micky heard Mike inhale sharply. The wound was stitched closed, but it was bigger than Micky would have imagined for a bullet hole. Once he thought about it, he guessed they would have had to cut a bigger incision to get the bullet out, but it was still troubling to see just how large it was. It was probably a few inches long running across his shoulder.

"How long until that heals?" Mike asked sounding a little choked again.

"Hard to say for sure," the nurse answered as she continued her work placing another bandage over the stitches. "I've seen some people heal in weeks, others take longer. There will be a scar, but if your friend is lucky, I'd say it'll take about a couple weeks before we can discharge him, and that's _if_ he follows the doctor's orders. The bullet didn't damage any bones or vital organs, which would take longer to heal."

"When will he wake up?" Micky asked.

"He should wake up any minute now, but again, that can vary depending on the patient."

"What does it mean if he doesn't wake up soon?" Davy asked now awake and startling Micky a little.

"We'll deal with that if happens. Don't worry too much. Stress is surprisingly transferrable. Now, why don't you go down to the cafeteria and get some breakfast for yourselves? Except you, Mr. Dolenz. You have to stay here. I can order something for you if you're hungry."

"I'm starving actually," Micky answered. "I haven't eaten since yesterday morning."

"Well that is certainly not good for the healing process. I'll have an orderly bring you something."

"I'd rather stay here with Micky and Peter," Mike said.

"Mike, don't be stupid," Micky said. "Go eat. Davy, you too. I already feel bad enough about all this, don't make it worse by missing out on food. Peter would want you to go eat, too."

"Are you sure you're gonna be ok by yourself?" Davy asked.

"I'll be fine," Micky answered. "I've got this lovely nurse over here if I need anything. Please. Go eat." Davy jumped down from his cot and looked ready to go, but Mike still looked a bit reluctant. He stared at Peter for a moment. "Mike?" Micky prodded, even though he knew what he was thinking. He'd known Mike long enough now to figure it out. He wanted to be here when Peter woke up. He owed Peter his life and didn't want to leave him. He was making it his personal responsibility to make sure Peter recovered. Mike didn't answer him. "Mike, please go. When's the last time _you_ ate? You can eat fast and be back here in no time. More than that, what's Peter gonna say if I tell him you skipped food just so you can stay here and beat yourself up?" Mike sighed and looked at Micky.

"Alright, you win," Mike said and he followed Davy out of the room. The nurse smiled and left behind them. Several minutes later an orderly brought Micky a tray of food. On the side of the tray was a bottle of orange juice. The tray also had a very large bowl of mixed fruit, some eggs and toast. Micky dove into the plate after thanking the orderly. He really didn't realize how hungry he was. He finished his food just as Mike and Davy returned to the room.

"Nothing?" Mike said looking forlornly at Peter.

"Nope, not even so much as a twitch," Micky answered. Mike sighed and sat in a chair next to Peter while Davy took Micky's tray of food and set it on the counter on the other side of the room.

"Pete, please wake up," Mike pled desperately. "The nurse said you were supposed to wake up now. I need to know you're ok. Please, please wake up." He was met only with silence.

"Well, she did say that it varies, right?" Micky said hopefully.

"Right," Davy offered, "so he's ok. He's just going to take a little longer to wake up than other people do." This didn't seem to offer Mike any comfort. Not that Micky had expected it to. It didn't offer him any comfort either and he was the one who'd brought it up. They spent the next hour mostly in silence trying to keep their minds off the fact that Peter was still sleeping. It wasn't exactly easy, however. Micky kept finding himself envisioning scenarios where Peter never woke up. Finally he found himself absently humming "Carlisle Wheeling". He must have been humming it loudly because suddenly Mike stared to sing it. Micky smiled. It was a great song with beautiful imagery to it. When Mike finished the song, they heard a soft clapping sound and turned to see Dr. Hastings standing in the doorway.

"That was very good," he said.

"Thanks," Mike said with his face oddly flushing red. "Is there a reason Peter isn't waking up? Should we be worried?"

"Not necessarily," Dr. Hastings said while checking Peter. "His vitals all look normal. Some people just take a little longer to come out of anesthesia than others. The drugs need to leave his muscles. It's rare, but some people take a few extra hours to wake up. I'm going to run some blood tests just to make sure, but I doubt it's anything to really worry about. How do you feel today, Mr. Dolenz?"

"I feel a lot better today," Micky answered. The doctor now walked over to him and began doing some of his reflex tests again. He shone the light into Micky's eyes and this time he only felt a dull pain in his head from it.

"Your pupil reaction is a lot better. Nearly back to normal. How do your muscles feel? Can you try pushing on my hands again?" Micky did as instructed and pushed on the doctor's hands. His strength was nearly back in full. "Good. You are recovering very nicely. I think you'll be able to go home in a few days once all the swelling goes down. In the meantime, rest and try not to worry too much about your friend." Dr. Hastings turned to leave the room after drawing a small vial of blood from Peter.

"Yeah, that's easier said than done," Davy said.

"Well, I have heard that music can help relieve stress," Dr. Hastings answered from the doorway. "It can also help with the healing process. Maybe your friend can hear you. You might keep up singing to him. Who knows, it might help him." With a smile, the doctor left the boys alone. They were quiet for a while.

"Well, it might be worth a shot," Davy said.

"Wouldn't hurt," Micky agreed. Micky started singing "As We Go Along". There wasn't a change in Peter, but Micky felt a little better. Davy and Mike looked like they felt a little better as well, so Micky decided to continue. Halfway through "Take a Giant Step" however, Micky noticed a small pair of eyes peeking through the door that the doctor had left cracked open. He smiled and motioned for the person to come in. A little girl slowly came into the room with a smile on her face. There was another little girl maybe a few years older behind her who looked a little more worried. Mike waved the girls further into the room as well. They smiled a little. The younger one seemed to be bouncing a little really enjoying the song. When Micky was finished with the song Mike smiled at them.

"Hello, girls," he said.

"Hi!" the younger one said enthusiastically. She looked to be around 6 years old with little blonde pigtails. "You guys are really good!"

"Thank you," Micky said smiling.

"We're really sorry," the older girl said. She looked like she was around 8 years old and had short brown hair. "We are in the room next door and we heard you singing a while ago and wanted to get a little closer to hear it better. We'll leave you alone now."

"That's ok, sweetie," Micky said. "You aren't bothering us."

"What are your names?" Mike asked.

"I'm Suzie!" the younger girl said. "And that's my sister Meg."

"Nice to meet you ladies," Mike said. "I'm Mike, this is Micky, that's Davy, and this is Peter."

"He's sleeping," Suzie said sounding sad.

"Yeah, he is," Micky said. "But he'll wake up soon."

"What's wrong with him?" Suzie asked.

"Suzie!" Meg snapped. "Don't be rude!"

"It's ok, Meg," Mike said. "She wasn't being rude. She's just curious. Our friend here got shot."

"That's what happened to daddy last year," Suzie said sadly. "He was doing something bad. Was your friend doing something bad?"

"No," Davy said kneeling down to be at eye level with the little girl. "Peter would never do anything bad. He got shot because a bad man was trying to hurt us."

"What happened to the bad man?"

"He went to jail," Micky answered.

"Did the bad man shoot you, too?"

"No, he didn't shoot me. He had some friends who hit me a few times. But I'll be ok. The doctors are taking good care of me and Peter."

"The doctors are taking care of us, too. Mommy got very sad and…"

"Suzie!" Meg snapped cutting off her sister. "I'm really sorry; she's just upset. Our mom sort of blames us for what happened to dad and that's why we're here." Meg and Suzie suddenly looked really sad. When Suzie lowered her head, Micky saw a small wound on the back of her neck. His heart broke for these little girls.

"That's ok, Meg," Mike said. "How about we sing you guys another song?"

"Really?!" Suzie said brightening again.

"Sure!" Micky said. "Why don't you come sit up here with me?" Suzie smiled brightly as Mike lifted her up and set her on the edge of the bed. Mike started singing "Papa Gene's Blues" and Micky and Davy joined in on the background. When Mike said "Yeehaw" toward the end of the song, Suzie laughed gleefully and even Meg smiled. Making these girls smile and laugh after what they'd been through made Micky feel happier than he had in a long time. Mike finished the song and Suzie bounced on the bed a little.

"Do another one!" she cheered. Mike laughed.

"Another one?!" Micky exclaimed. "Ok, but this time you have to help me, ok?"

"How?"

"Well, Peter normally helps me sing some songs, but he's asleep, so can you help me? When I point to you just say "hey!" ok?" Suzie nodded vigorously. Micky looked to Meg who seemed to be trying to bite back a smile. She reminded him a lot of Mike. She was all alone now shouldering the responsibility of being the older sister and trying to take care of her baby sister. She seemed nervous about talking to strangers, as well she should be, but she also seemed happy that her sister seemed to be enjoying herself. Mike must have picked up on this, too, because he picked Meg up and set her on his lap.

"I'll show you how to keep beat for Micky, ok?" he said. "Sometimes he messes up if there are no drums around to keep tempo, so we should help him." Micky laughed a little knowing Mike was just trying to make the girls laugh. It worked; Meg finally let out a chuckle. Mike started beating out a rhythm on the side of Micky's bed and Meg quickly picked it up and kept the beat with him. Right on cue of the beat Micky started singing "She". Whenever the time came where Peter usually shouted "hey", he pointed at Suzie who yelled "hey" on cue. She seemed to really enjoy it and by the end of the song she was clapping excitedly.

"Ok, Davy's turn," Micky said with a smile at Suzie. He was having fun, but he was starting to get a little tired, so wanted to pass the reins, so to speak. "Why don't you go dance with him? He's a really good dancer you know." Davy nodded and lifted Suzie off the bed. He set her on the floor and began singing "This Just Doesn't Seem to be My Day". Micky leaned his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes.

"Why don't you go dance with your sister," he heard Mike whisper to Meg. Micky opened his eyes and saw Meg nod and jump down off his lap to join her sister and Davy dancing around goofily. Mike sighed and moved closer to Micky. "You ok, buddy?" he whispered so the girls wouldn't hear.

"Yeah," Micky answered. "Just took more out of me than I thought it would."

"Just rest then, ok?" Mike said with a smile. After Mike and Davy sang a few more songs to the girls, Doctor Hastings knocked on the door. The girls froze like they were about to get in trouble.

"Hey, doc," Micky said. "They heard us singing and wanted to join us."

"That's quite alright," he answered with a smile. "But it's almost lunchtime so why don't you girls go back to your room and I'll see if I can convince the nurse to give you a little extra ice cream, ok?" The girls smiled again.

"Really!?" Suzie exclaimed. "Thanks!"

"Bye," Meg said taking her sisters hand and leading her out of the room. "Thanks for singing to us!"

"Anytime, girls," Mike said kneeling down next to them. "Meg, don't be afraid to have fun, ok? Yeah, you have to take care of your sister, but that doesn't mean you can't have fun yourself." Meg smiled and nodded, and then the two of them went back to their room next door.

"You know, those girls have been here two weeks and I've barely seen Meg so much as smile the whole time," Doctor Hastings said. "Thank you, boys. I've been trying to get her to relax a little so she could heal a little better."

"What's gonna happen to them when they leave here?" Davy asked.

"Well, they are probably going to be adopted. There is already a foster home lined up for them to go to."

"That's horrible," Micky said; he'd heard a lot of bad things about foster homes.

"This is a good foster home. And they'll be kept together. But I have the results of the test I did on Mr. Tork. Everything looks normal. He should be waking up any time now."

"That's what the nurse said hours ago," Mike said sounding a little annoyed. As if on cue, Peter let out a small moan. The four friends froze and all turned to look at him. Doctor Hastings walked over to check on his heart rate.

"Mr. Tork, can you hear me?" he asked.

"Mmmm…" Peter groaned.

"Pete?" Mike asked running over to Peter's other side and taking his hand. Davy's whole body tensed nervously. Micky's probably would have, but he had a feeling the medications were making his muscles too relaxed for it.

"What happened?" Pete groaned out. His voice was gravelly and rough, but Micky wasn't surprised after being asleep for as long as he was.

"Mr. Tork, you're in the hospital," Doctor Hastings said. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Yeah, I do," Peter answered opening his eyes a bit. Then he tried to sit up quickly, but both Mike and Doctor Hastings pushed him back down. "Mike?! Is Mike ok?"

"Peter, I'm right here and I'm fine," Mike answered. Peter looked at him and let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks to you."

"Oh yeah," Peter said as if he was only now truly remembering. "Davy and Micky?"

"We're both here, too," Davy said. "We're both fine. For the most part."

"For the most part?" Peter asked sounding worried again.

"Davy, don't do that to him," Micky said irritably. "He's not supposed to be stressed. I'm fine, Pete. Just a few bumps here and there. I just need some rest."

"Are you sure?" Peter asked.

"Your friends are all fine," Doctor Hastings said. "Don't worry about them. Just relax. How do you feel?"

"My shoulder hurts," Peter said.

"That's to be expected," Doctor Hastings said. He inspected Peter to make sure that there were no infections developing. When he took the bandage off again, Mike had to turn away. Micky felt sick seeing it again himself. Davy hadn't seen it before, so he let out a muffled, strangled cry.

"Is it that bad?" Peter asked seeing their reactions.

"It's a few stitches," Doctor Hasting said. "They can be taken out in several weeks. Until then, plenty of rest. No lifting. Your arm will be in a sling for a while even after that."

"But I play bass," Peter argued.

"Not for a while, you're not. You have to rest for a little longer. I'll go ahead and tell the nurse to allow you boys to eat in here. We are already disregarding visiting hours for you boys. By the way, boys, I want to ask you something."

"What is it?" Mike asked.

"I said before that music can have a certain healing effect. You boys seemed to prove that a little with Meg and Suzie. I'd like to talk to the chief and see if he'd be ok with having you boys come in for a few hours each week to work with the kids and some of the other patients playing your music for them."

"Really?" Micky asked.

"Who are Suzie and Meg?" Peter asked.

"We'll explain it later, Pete," Davy laughed.

"I don't know," Mike said. "Don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed singing for those girls, but we have to focus on finding gigs to pay for our rent."

"Who said we weren't going to pay you?" Doctor Hastings asked. "I don't think it'd be much and I don't know how long we'd be able to keep it up. Those are details I'd need to work out with the chief, but he's been looking for something like this. He wants to try a few things out to help the patients. See what works and what doesn't. Once I tell him about those girls, I have no doubt that he'd want to see how it works with other patients. It'll probably be at least through the next several months."

"I think we should do it," Micky said.

"I agree," Davy added. "Mike?"

"Sure," Mike said. "If your boss thinks it's a good idea, count us in. We just will have to figure out a way around not having a bassist for a while."

"Excellent," Doctor Hastings said. "I'll talk with him today and get back to you. Enjoy your lunch boys." The doctor left with a smile and Mike explained what had happened to Peter while they waited for their lunch. They chatted all through lunch with Peter about things the cops had said and how Micky was doing, which Micky wasn't too happy with, but found it difficult to change the subject. Finally a knock came on the door and the nurse poked her head in.

"There's a detective out here who wants to speak with you," she said. "Are you ok with that?"

"Sure," Peter said before the others could answer. Micky thought it might be better for Peter not to hear too much bad news and wasn't sure what the cops had to say to them. The nurse ducked out too quickly for any of them to argue and a detective walked in a second later.

"Thank you boys," he said. "I just wanted to share an update with you. Babyface Morales is in jail facing multiple counts of assault, kidnapping, and attempted murder. He's trying to plead innocent, but with your testimonies, it won't hold up and we expect him to make a deal. William Vidic has already pleaded guilty on multiple counts of assault and kidnapping. He'll be in jail for 15 years. We went to the house you told us about to arrest Lucy and this other man you said was there, but unfortunately, they'd already fled. We have issued a 'be on the lookout' for them and hope to be able to find them soon. Our tech's have gone through and only found one wire in your home. It has been removed and you can safely return whenever you feel like it."

"Lucy got away?" Micky asked anger boiling inside him.

"Yes, but we are actively looking for her. Thank you for your service and we hope you get better soon." With that the detective left.

"Well he's got great bedside manner," Mike deadpanned.

"I can't believe it!" Micky exclaimed.

"Hey, calm down, Micky," Mike said.

"She got away!"

"Don't worry, Micky," Davy said. "I doubt she'll come after us. If she knows what's good for her, she'll be long gone."

"I'm not worried about retaliation…wait, what do you mean by 'if she knows what's good for her'?"

"I mean if I ever saw her again, I'd teach her a lesson about messing with my friends. Just like I did to Babyface. Whatever he gets is too good for him."

"Ok, maybe we should hide the heavy pots from Davy," Mike laughed. They spent the next several days trying their best to relax. They periodically invited Suzie and Meg in for more singing and dancing, much to their delights. The girls were indeed put in a really good foster home a few days later and came back to the hospital a few times to visit Peter. Peter healed relatively fast and they were able to take the stitches out a little early, but he still wasn't allowed to play Bass. Micky had fully recovered after a little more than a week himself. They'd taken the gig at the hospital and it paid them enough to cover their rent for the next several months. The police never found Lucy or Robert, but Micky tried not to think about that. He tried to focus on getting their lives back to normal. Well, Monkees normal anyway. Which was actually pretty crazy, but he wouldn't trade it for the world.

Ending Author's Note: Ok, there it is boys and girls. The end. Kinda wrapped it up quickly so hope I didn't leave any questions. And who knows, since the cops never found Lucy and Robert, there may be a sequel to this sequel….


End file.
